age of poor Tom.

"I think we are quite decided on the point," said Jack Wentworth.
"Knowing your sentiments, Wodehouse, I left directions with Waters
about the papers. I think you will find him to be trusted, Miss
Wodehouse, if you wish to consult him about letting or selling--"

"By Jove!" exclaimed Wodehouse, under his breath.

"Which, I suppose," continued the superb Jack, "you will wish to do
under the pleasant circumstances, upon which I beg to offer you my
congratulations. Now, Tom, my good fellow, I am at your service. I
think we have done our business here."

Wodehouse got up in his sulky reluctant way like a lazy dog. "I
suppose you won't try to move the furniture now?" he said. These were
the only adieux he intended to make, and perhaps they might have been
expressed with still less civility, had not Jack Wentworth been
standing waiting for him at the door.

"Oh, Tom! I am so thankful you have done it!" cried Miss Wodehouse.
"It is not that I care for the money; but oh, Tom, I am so glad to
think nobody can say anything now." She followed them wistfully to the
door, not giving up hopes of a kinder parting. "I think it is very
kind and nice of you, and what dear papa would have wished," said the
elder sister, forgetting how all her father's plans had been brought
to nothing; "and of course you will live here all the same?" she said,
with a little eagerness, "that is, till--till--as long as we are
here--"

"Good-bye, Miss Wodehouse," said Jack Wentworth. "I don't think either
your brother or I will stay much longer in Carlingford. You must
accept my best wishes for your happiness all the same."

"You are very kind, I am sure," said the embarrassed bride; "and oh,
Tom, you will surely say good-bye? Say good-bye once as if you meant
it; don't go away as if you did not care. Tom, I always was very fond
of you; and don't you feel a little different to us, now you've done
us a kindness?" cried Miss Wodehouse, going out after him to the
landing-place. But Wodehouse was in no humour to be gracious. Instead
of paying any attention to her, he looked regretfully at the property
he had lost.

"Good-bye," he said, vaguely. "By Jove! I know better than Jack
Wentworth does the value of property. We might have had a jolly month at
Homburg out of that old place," said the prodigal, with regret, as he
went down the old-fashioned oak stair. That was his farewell to the
house which he had entered so disastrously on the