ith
the character and conduct of the young man; but when Paul took the
papers, steadily, and by an effort seemed to subdue all unpleasant
feelings, the calm dignity with which he read them completely effaced
the disagreeable distrust. It was then John Effingham remembered that
he had once believed Paul himself might be the fruits of the
heartless indiscretion he condemned. Commiseration and sympathy
instantly took the place of the first impression, and he was so much
absorbed with these feelings that he had not taken up the letter
which was to follow, when Paul laid down the paper he had last been
required to read.

"This does, indeed, sir, seem to foretell one of those painful
histories of unbridled passion, with the still more painful
consequences," said the young man with the steadiness of one who was
unconscious of having a personal connexion with any events of a
nature so unpleasant. "Let us examine farther."

John Effingham felt emboldened by these encouraging signs of
unconcern, and he read the succeeding letters aloud, so that they
learned their contents simultaneously. The next six or eight
communications betrayed nothing distinctly, beyond the fact that the
child which formed the subject of the whole correspondence, was to be
received by Peter Dowse and his wife, and to be retained as their own
offspring, for the consideration of a considerable sum, with an
additional engagement to pay an annuity. It appeared by these letters
also, that the child, which was hypocritically alluded to under the
name of the 'pet,' had been actually transferred to the keeping of
Jane Dowse, and that several years passed, after this arrangement,
before the correspondence terminated. Most of the later letters
referred to the payment of the annuity, although they all contained
cold inquiries after the 'pet,' and answers so vague and general, as
sufficiently to prove that the term was singularly misapplied. In the
whole, there were some thirty or forty letters, each of which had
been punctually answered, and their dates covered a space of near
twelve years. The perusal of all these papers consumed more than an
hour, and when John Effingham laid his spectacles on the table, the
village clock had struck the hour of midnight.

"As yet," he observed, "we have learned little more than the fact,
that a child was made to take a false character, without possessing
any other clue to the circumstances than is given in the names of the
part