and his sister.

There is nothing which so truly and often so severely tests the state of
man's heart, or so painfully disturbs the whole frame of his moral
being as the occurrence of some important event that is fraught with
happiness. Such an event resembles the presence of a good man among a
set of profligates, causing them to feel the superiority of virtue
over vice, and imposing a disagreeable restraint, not only upon their
actions, but their very thoughts. When the baronet, for instance, went
from his bedroom to the library, he experienced the full force of this
observation. A disagreeable tumult prevailed within him. It is true, he
felt, as every parent must feel, to a greater or less extent delighted
at the contemplation of his son's restoration to him. But, at the same
time, the tenor of his past life rose up in painful array before him,
and occasioned reflections that disturbed him deeply. Should this young
man prove, on examination, to resemble his sister in her views of moral
life in general--should he find him as delicately virtuous, and animated
by the same pure sense of honor, he felt that his recovery would disturb
the future habits of his life, and take away much of the gratification
which he expected from his society. These considerations, we say,
rendered him so anxious and uneasy, that he actually wished to find him
something not very far removed from a profligate. He hoped that he might
be inspired with his own views of society and men, and that he would
now have some one to countenance him in all his selfish designs and
projects.

CHAPTER XXXIV. Young Gourlay's Affectionate Interview with His Father

--Risk of Strangulation--Movements of M'Bride.

It is not necessary here to suggest to the reader that Tom Corbet,
who knew the baronet's secrets and habits of life so thoroughly, had
prepared Mr. Ambrose Gray, by frequent rehearsals, for the more adroit
performance of the task that was before him.

At length a knock, modest but yet indicative of something like
authority, was heard at the hall-door, and the baronet immediately
descended to the dining-room, where he knew he could see his son with
less risk of interruption. He had already intimated to Lucy that she
should not make her appearance until summoned for that purpose.

At length Mr. Gray was shown into the dining-room, and the baronet, who,
as usual, was pacing it to and fro, suddenly turned round, and without
any motion to approac