of his birth. Since then Mountjoy
had disappeared from the world, and for a few days his father had
thought that he had been murdered. But now they met as they might have
done had they seen each other a week ago. "Well, Mountjoy, how are you?"
And, "How are you, sir?" Such were the greetings between them. And no
others were spoken. In a few minutes the son was allowed to go and look
after the rural joys he had anticipated, and the lawyer was left
closeted with the squire.

Mr. Grey soon explained his proposition. Let the property be left to
trustees who should realize from it what money it should fetch, and keep
the money in their own hands, paying Mountjoy the income. "There could,"
he said, "be nothing better done, unless Mountjoy would agree to marry.
He is attached, it seems, to his cousin," said Mr. Grey, "and he is
unwilling at present to marry any one else."

"He can't marry her," said the squire.

"I do not know the circumstances."

"He can't marry her. She is engaged to the young man who will be here
just now. I told you,--did I not?--that Harry Annesley is coming here. My
son knows that he will be here to-day."

"Everybody knows the story of Mr. Annesley and the captain."

"They are to sit down to dinner together, and I trust they may not
quarrel. The lady of whom you are speaking is engaged to young Annesley,
and Mountjoy's suit in that direction is hopeless."

"Hopeless, you think?"

"Utterly hopeless. Your plan of providing him with a wife would be very
good if it were feasible. I should be very glad to see him settled. But
if he will marry no one but Florence Mountjoy he must remain unmarried.
Augustus has had his hand in that business, and don't let us dabble in
it." Then the squire gave the lawyer full instructions as to the will
which was to be made. Mr. Grey and Mr. Bullfist were to be named as
trustees, with instructions to sell everything which it would be in the
squire's legal power to bequeath. The books, the gems, the furniture,
both at Tretton and in London, the plate, the stock, the farm-produce,
the pictures on the walls, and the wine in the cellars, were all named.
He endeavored to persuade Mr. Grey to consent to a cutting of the
timber, so that the value of it might be taken out of the pocket of the
younger brother and put into that of the elder. But to this Mr. Grey
would not assent. "There would be an air of persecution about it," he
said, "and it mustn't be done." But to the gener