us except he was an ugly brute, and a
scoundrel, and a man of no family. Now if either of us deserved good
fortune, it certainly was me; there can't be any question of that. And
yet, here I am, driven to the damnedest tedious time of it for bare
food and shelter, and compelled to drink ale when I'm--oh, curse it,
gentlemen, was ever such rotten luck?"

Cornelius, whom disillusion had stricken into speechlessness at this
revelation of the old Ned under the masquerade, sighed heavily and
looked pained. But Philip, always curious upon matters of human
experience, asked:

"What of the Irishman?"

"Driving in his chariot, the dog! Swaggering in Pall Mall; eating and
drinking at taverns that it makes my mouth water to think of; laying
his hundred guineas a throw, if he likes. Oh, the devil! The fat of
London for that fellow; and me cast off here in New York to the most
hellish dull life! 'Tisn't a fair dispensation; upon my soul it
isn't!"

"And what made him so fortunate?" inquired Philip.

"Ay, that's the worst of it! What good are a man's relations? What
good are mine, at least? For that knave had only one relation, but she
was of some use, Lord knows! When it came to the worst with him, he
walked to Bristol, and begged or stole passage to Ireland, and hunted
up his sister, who had a few pounds a year of her own. He had thought
of borrowing a guinea or two, to try his fortune with again. But when
he saw his sister, he found she'd grown up into a beauty--no more of a
beauty than my sisters, though; but she was a girl of enterprise and
spirit. I don't say Madge isn't that; but she's married and done for.
But Fanny--well, I don't see anything brilliant in store for Fanny."

"What has she to do with the affairs of your Irishman?" I asked.

"Oh, nothing. She's a different kind from this Irish lady. For what
did that girl do, after her brother had seen her and got the idea,
than pack up and come to London with him. And he showed her around so
well, and her fine looks made such an impression, that within three
months he had her married to a lord's son--the heir to Lord Ilverton's
estates and title. And now she's a made woman, and he's a made man,
and what do you think of that for a lucky brother and a clever sister?
And yet, compared with Fanny--"

"Do you mean to say," interrupted Philip, in a low voice, "that you
have ever thought of Fanny as a partner in such a plan?"

"Little use to think of her," replied Ned, cont