sure that the old man had long ago
repented of his harshness; and yet, when he had hinted this to his
mother, she had absolutely refused to listen to him.

"It is too late, Percy. I have no father now," she had returned, in
her firm, sad voice, and her face had looked like marble as she spoke.

Percy was rather in awe of his grandfather. Mr. Huntingdon had grown
harder and more tyrannical as the years passed on. Neither of the
young men ventured to oppose his iron will. He was fond of his
grandson, proud of his good looks and aristocratic air, and not
disposed to quarrel with him because he was a little wild. "Young men
would be young men," was a favorite saying of his; he had used it
before in the case of Lord Ronald Gower.

But his nephew, Erle, was really dearer to the old man's heart. But
then every one liked Erle Huntingdon, he was so sweet-tempered and
full of life, so honest and frank, and so thoroughly unselfish.

He was somewhat short, at least beside Percy, and his pleasant, boyish
face had no special claims to good looks. He had the ruddy, youthful
air of a young David, and there was something of the innocence of the
sheep-fold about him.

All women liked Erle Huntingdon. He was so gentle and chivalrous in
his manner to them; he never seemed to think of himself when he was
talking to them; and his bonhomie and gay good-humor made him a
charming companion.

Erle never understood himself how caressing his manners could be at
times. He liked all women, old and young, but only one had really
touched his heart. It was strange, then, that more than one hoped that
she had found favor in his eyes. Erle's sunshiny nature made him a
universal favorite, but it may be doubted whether any of his friends
really read him correctly. Now and then an older man told him he
wanted ballast, and warned him not to carry that easy good nature too
far or it might lead him into mischief; but the spoiled child of
fortune only shook his head with a laugh.

But in reality Erle Huntingdon's character wanted back-bone; his will,
not a strong one, was likely to be dominated by a stronger. With all
his pleasantness and natural good qualities he was vacillating and
weak; if any pressure or difficulty should come into his life, it
would be likely for him to be weighed in the balance and found
wanting.

At present his life had been smooth and uneventful; he had yet to test
the hollowness of human happiness, to learn that the highest s