und."

What could the Vicar do? He felt that he was being cunningly cheated
out of his grievance. He would have had not a minute's hesitation as
to forgiving the Marquis, had the Marquis owned himself to be wrong.
But he was now invited to bury the hatchet on even terms, and he knew
that the terms should not be even. And he resented all this the more
in his heart because he understood very well how clever and cunning
was the son of his enemy. He did not like to be cheated out of his
forgiveness. But after all, what did it matter? Would it not be
enough for him to know, himself, that he had been right? Was it
not much to feel himself free from all pricks of conscience in the
matter?

"If Lord Trowbridge is willing to let it all pass," said he, "so am
I."

"I am delighted," said Lord St. George, with spirit; "I will not come
in now, because I have already overstayed my time, but I hope you may
hear from my father before long in a spirit of kindness."

CHAPTER LXXI.

THE END OF MARY LOWTHER'S STORY.

Sir Gregory Marrable's headache was not of long duration. Allusion
is here made to that especial headache under the acute effects of
which he had taken so very unpromising a farewell of his nephew and
heir. It lasted, however, for two or three days, during which he had
frequent consultations with Mrs. Brownlow, and had one conversation
with Edith. He was disappointed, sorry, and sore at heart because the
desire on which he had set his mind could not be fulfilled; but he
was too weak to cling either to his hope or to his anger. His own son
had gone from him, and this young man must be his heir and the owner
of Dunripple. No doubt he might punish the young man by excluding
him from any share of ownership for the present; but there would be
neither comfort nor advantage in that. It is true that he might save
any money that Walter would cost him, and give it to Edith,--but such
a scheme of saving for such a purpose was contrary to the old man's
nature. He wanted to have his heir near him at Dunripple. He hated
the feeling of desolation which was presented to him by the idea of
Dunripple without some young male Marrable at hand to help him. He
desired, unconsciously, to fill up the void made by the death of his
son with as little trouble as might be. And therefore he consulted
Mrs. Brownlow.

Mrs. Brownlow was clearly of opinion that he had better take his
nephew, with the encumbrance of Mary Lowther, and make the