is marrying your sister merely for the property, out of which
you cut him."

"Of course, my dear father," replied the other, "I am in your hands;
but, in the meantime, how and where am I to dispose of myself?"

"In the first place, keep your own secret--that is the principal
point--in which case you may live wherever you wish; I will give you
a liberal allowance until you can make your appearance with safety to
Lucy's prosperity. The marriage will take place very soon; after which
you can come and claim your own, when it will be too late for Dunroe to
retract. Here, for the present, is a check for two hundred and fifty;
but, Tom, you must be frugal and cautious in its expenditure. Don't
suffer yourself to break out: always keep a firm hold of the helm. Get
a book in which you will mark down your expenses; for, mark me, you must
render a strict account of this money. On the day after to-morrow you
must dine with Lucy and me; but, if you take my advice, you will see her
as seldom as possible until after her marriage. She wishes me to release
her from her engagement, and she will attempt to seduce you to her side;
but I warn you that this would be a useless step for you to take, as my
mind is immovable on the subject."

They then separated, each, but especially Mr. Ambrose Gray, as we must
again call him, feeling very well satisfied with the result of the
interview.

"Now," said the baronet, as he paced the floor, after his son had gone,
"am I not right, after all, in the views which I entertain of life? I
have sometimes been induced to fear that Providence has placed in human
society a moral machinery which acts with retributive effect upon those
who, in the practice of their lives, depart from what are considered his
laws. And yet here am I, whose whole life has been at variance with and
disregarded them--here I am, I say, with an easier heart than I've had
for many a day: my son restored to me--my daughter upon the point
of being married according to my highest wishes--all my projects
prospering; and there is my brother's wife--wretched Lady Gourlay--who,
forsooth, is religious, benevolent, humane, and charitable--ay, and if
report speak true, who loves her fellow-creatures as much as I scorn and
detest them. Yes--and what is the upshot? Why, that all these virtues
have not made her one whit happier than another, nor so happy as one
in ten thousand. _Cui bono_, then I ask--where is this moral machinery
which I some