f course he will mend. I intend
to lecture him severely for uttering such principles to you; but, on the
other hand, I know him to be a shrewd, keen young fellow, who promises
well, notwithstanding. In truth, I like him, scamp as he is; and I
believe that whatever is bad in him--"

"Whatever is bad in him! Why, papa, there is nothing good in him."

"Tut, Lucy; I believe, I say, that whatever is bad in him he has picked
up from the kind of society he mixed with."

"Papa," she replied, "it grieves me to hear you, sir, palliate the
conduct of such a person--to become almost the apologist of principles
so utterly fiendish. You know that I am not and never have been in the
habit of using ungenerous language against the absent. So far as I am
concerned, he has violated all the claims of a brother--has foregone all
title to a sister's love; but that is not all--I believe him to be so
essentially corrupt and vicious in heart and soul, so thoroughly and
blackly diabolical in his principles--moral I cannot call them--that I
would stake my existence he is some base and plotting impostor, in whose
veins there flows not one single drop of my pure-hearted mother's blood.
I therefore warn you, sir, that he is an impostor, with, perhaps, a
dishonorable title to your name, but none at all to your property."

"Nonsense, you foolish girl. Is he not my image?"

"I admit he resembles you, sir, very much, and I do not deny that he may
be"--she paused, and alternately became pale and red by turns--"what
I mean to say, sir, is what I have already said, that he is not my
mother's son, and that although he may be privileged to bear your name,
he has no claim on either your property or title. Does it not strike
you, sir, that it might be to make way for this person that my
legitimate brother was removed long ago? And I have also heard yourself
say frequently, while talking of my brother, how extremely like mamma
and me he was."

"There is no doubt he was," replied her father, somewhat struck by the
force of her observations; "and I was myself a good deal surprised
at the change which must have taken place in him since his childhood.
However, you know he accounted for this himself very fairly and very
naturally."

"Very ingeniously, at least," she replied; "with more of ingenuity, I
fear, than truth. Now, sir, hear me further. You are aware that I never
liked those Corbets, who have been always so deeply, and, excuse me,
sir, so mysterious