nd
that's the devil.' And he's done it. But, here's the difference. He goes
himself; he don't send another. I'll tell you what: if you don't know
about Mr. Ned's tricks, you ought. And you ought to make him marry the
girl, and be off to New Zealand, or any of the upside-down places, where
he might begin by farming, and soon, with his abilities, be cock o' the
walk. He would, perhaps, be sending us a letter to say that he preferred
to break away from the mother country and establish a republic. He's got
the same political opinions as you. Oh! he'll do well enough over here;
of course he will. He's the very fellow to do well. Knock at him, he's
hard as nails, and 'll stick anywhere. You wouldn't listen to me, when
I told you about this at Fairly, where some old sweetheart of the girl
mistook that poor devil of a scapegoat, Algy, for him, and went pegging
at him like a madman."

"No," said Sir William; "No, I would not. Nor do I now. At least," he
struck out his right hand deprecatingly, "I listen."

"Can you tell me what he was doing when he went to Italy?"

"He went partly at my suggestion."

"Turns you round his little finger! He went off with this girl: wanted
to educate her, or some nonsense of the sort. That was Mr. Ned's
business. Upon my soul, I'm sorry for old Fleming. I'm told he takes it
to heart. It's done him up. Now, if it should turn out to be Ned, would
you let him right the girl by marrying her? You wouldn't!"

"The principle of examining your hypothesis before you proceed to
decide by it, is probably unknown to you," Sir William observed, after
bestowing a considerate smile on his brother, who muffled himself up
from the chilling sententiousness, and drank.

Sir William, in the pride of superior intellect, had heard as good as
nothing of the charge against his son.

"Well," said the squire, "think as you like, act as you like; all's one
to me. You're satisfied; that's clear; and I'm some hundred of pounds
out of pocket. This major's paying court to the widow, is he?"

"I can't say that he is."

"It would be a good thing for her to get married."

"I should be glad."

"A good thing for her, I say."

"A good thing for him, let us hope."

"If he can pay her debts."

Sir William was silent, and sipped his wine.

"And if he can keep a tight hand on the reins. That's wanted," said the
squire.

The gentleman whose road to happiness was thus prescribed stood by Mrs.
Lovell's chair, in the draw