n a position which we dare say
nobody will envy him.

CHAPTER XXXVI. Contains a Variety of Matters

--Some to Laugh and some to Weep at.

Our readers may have observed that Sir Thomas Gourlay led a secluded
life ever since the commencement of our narrative. The fact was, and he
felt it deeply, that he had long been an unpopular man. That he was a
bad, overbearing husband, too, had been well known, for such was the
violence of his temper, and the unvaried harshness of his disposition
toward his wife, that the general tenor of his conduct, so far even as
she was concerned, could not be concealed. His observations on life and
personal character were also so cynical and severe, not to say unjust,
that his society was absolutely avoided, unless by some few of his own
disposition. And yet nothing could be more remarkable than the contrast
that existed between his principles and conduct in many points, thus
affording, as they did, an involuntary acknowledgment of his moral
errors.

He would not, for instance, admit his sceptical friends, who laughed at
the existence of virtue and religion, to the society of his daughter,
with the exception of Lord Dunroe, to whose vices his unaccountable
ambition for her elevation completely blinded him. Neither did he wish
her to mingle much with the world, from a latent apprehension that she
might tind it a different thing from what he himself represented it to
be; and perhaps might learn there the low estimate which it had formed
of her future husband. Like most misanthropical men, therefore, whose
hatred of life is derived principally from that uneasiness of conscience
which proceeds from their own vices, he kept aloof from society as far
as the necessities of his position allowed him.

Mrs. Mainwaring had called upon him several times with an intention of
making some communication which she trusted would have had the effect
of opening his eyes to the danger into which he was about to precipitate
his daughter by her contemplated! marriage with Dunroe. He uniformly
refused, however, to see her, or to allow her any opportunity of
introducing the subject. Finding herself deliberately and studiously
repulsed, this good lady, who still occasionally corresponded with
Lucy, came to the resolution of writing to him on the subject, and,
accordingly, Gibson, one morning, with his usual cool and deferential
manner, presented him with the following letter:

"SUMMERFIELD COTTAGE.

"Sir,