easure was in his eyes, which had been fixed on me, waiting
to receive my glance. I returned it with a smile expressive of scorn
and contempt, and then looked at my father, who appeared to be in a
state of misery. His head had fallen upon his breast, and his hands
were clasped. Although I was shocked at the blow, for I knew how much
the money was required, I felt too proud to show it; indeed, I felt that
I would not for worlds have exchanged situations with my uncle, much
less feelings; for when those who remain meet to ascertain the
disposition made, by one who is summoned away to the tribunal of his
Maker, of those worldly and perishable things which he must leave behind
him, feelings of rancour and ill-will might, for the time, be permitted
to subside, and the memory of a "departed brother" be productive of
charity and good-will. After a little reflection, I felt that I could
forgive my uncle.

Not so my father: the codicil which deprived me of my inheritance, was
the last of the will, and the lawyer rolled up the parchment and took
off his spectacles. Everybody rose; my father seized his hat, and
telling me in a harsh voice to follow him, tore off the crape weepers,
and then threw them on the floor as he walked away. I also took off
mine, and laid them on the table, and followed him. My father called
his carriage, waiting in the hall till it was driven up, and jumped into
it. I followed him; he drew up the blind, and desired them to drive
home.

"Not a sixpence! By the God of heaven, not a sixpence! My name not
even mentioned, except for a paltry mourning ring! And yours--pray,
sir, what have you been about, after having such a sum left you, to
forfeit your grandfather's good opinion? Heh! sir--tell me directly!"
continued he, turning round to me in a rage.

"Nothing, my dear father, that I am aware of. My uncle is evidently my
enemy."

"And why should he be particularly your enemy? Peter, there must be
some reason for his having induced your grandfather to alter his bequest
in your favour. I insist upon it, sir, that you tell me immediately."

"My dear father, when you are more calm, I will talk this matter over
with you. I hope I shall not be considered wanting in respect, when I
say, that, as a clergyman of the Church of England--"

"Damn the Church of England, and those who put me into it!" replied my
father, maddened with rage.

I was shocked and held my tongue. My father appeared also