of an old adage."

"But you know, my lord," replied the other, "that the instances of
post-matrimonial reformation, if I may use the word, from youthful
folly, are sufficient to justify the proverb. I am quite certain, that,
if Lord Dunroe were united to a virtuous and sensible wife, he would
settle down into the character of a steady, honorable, and independent
man. I could prove this by many instances, even within your knowledge
and mine. Why, then, exclude his lordship from the benefit of a
contingency, to speak the least, which we know falls out happily in so
many instances?"

"You mean you could prove the probability of it, my dear baronet; for,
at present, the case is not susceptible of proof. What you say may
be true; but, on the other hand, it may not; and, in the event of his
marrying without the post-matrimonial reformation you speak of, what
becomes of your daughter's happiness?"

"Nay, I know generous Dunroe so well, my lord, that I would not, even as
Lucy's father, hesitate a moment to run the risk."

"But what says Lucy herself? And how does she stand affected toward him?
For that is the main point. This matter, you know, was spoken over some
few years ago, and conditionally approved of by us both; but my son was
then very young, and had not plunged into that course of unjustifiable
extravagance and profligacy which, to my cost, has disgraced his
latter years. I scorn to veil his conduct, baronet, for it would be
dishonorable under the circumstances between us, and I trust you will be
equally candid in detailing to me the sentiments of your daughter on the
subject."

"My lord, I shall unquestionably do so; but Lucy, you must know, is a
girl of a very peculiar disposition. She possesses, in fact, a good deal
of her unworthy father's determination and obstinacy. Urge her with too
much vehemence, and she will resist; try to accelerate her pace, and
she will stand still; but leave her to herself, to the natural and
reasonable suggestions of her excellent sense, and you will get her to
do anything."

"That is but a very indifferent character you bestow upon your daughter,
Sir Thomas," replied his lordship--"I trust she deserves a better one at
your hands."

"Why, my lord," replied the baronet, smiling after his own peculiar
fashion, that is to say, with a kind of bitter sarcasm, "I have as good
a right, I think, to exaggerate the failings of my daughter as you have
to magnify those of your son. But a