erved for
yourself to inform her Ladyship of her step in rank, but I thought she'd
just like to hear the news as well from her father."

Beecher made no answer, but sat buried in thought; at last he said: "Mr.
Twining, whom I met accidentally last night, told me of my brother's
death, and told me, besides, that it had occurred fully eight weeks
ago."

"So long as that!" said Davis, dryly.

"Yes, so long as that," said Beecher, fixing his eyes steadfastly on
the other. "He tells me, too, that Lady Lackington wrote twice, or even
thrice, to urge me to come on to Italy; that my arrival was looked for
hourly. Many other letters were also sent after me, but not one reached
my hand. Strange, very strange!"

"I suppose you have them all there now," said Grog, defiantly, as he
pointed to the mass of letters on the dressing-table.

"No, these are all of recent dates, and refer, besides, to others which
I have never got."

"What has become of the others, then?" asked Grog, resolutely.

"That's the very point _I_ cannot decide, and it is the very question I
was about to ask of _you_."

"What do you mean?" said Grog, calmly.

"What I mean is this," said Beecher, "that I am curious to learn how
long it is since you knew of my brother's death?"

"If you 'd like to hear when I suspected that fact, perhaps I can tell
you," said Grog.

"Well, let me hear so much."

"It was shortly after your arrival at Holbach."

"Ah! I thought so--I thought as much!" cried Beecher triumphantly.

"Wait a bit,--wait a bit; don't be sure you have won the game, I 've a
card in my hand yet. When you endorsed certain large bills for Lazarus
Stein at Aix, you signed your name 'Lackington.' Oh, there's no denying
it, I have them here in this pocket-book. Now, either your brother was
dead, or you committed a forgery."

"You know well, sir," said Beecher, haughtily, "at whose instance and
persuasion I wrote myself Lackington.'"

"_I_ know it! I know nothing about it. But before we carry this
controversy further, let me give you a hint: drop this haughty tone you
have just taken with me,--it won't do,--I tell you it won't. If you 're
the Lord Viscount to the world, you know deuced well what you are to me,
and what, if you push me to it, I could make you to _them_."

"Captain Davis, I am inclined to think that we had better come to an
understanding at once," said Beecher, with a degree of firmness he could
rarely assume. "Our relations cannot