ughtily; but looked at the old Squire and
grew patient. She even tried to eke out the flagging conversation, and
luckily remembered the news which Duke Dugdale had that morning ridden
over to communicate. She could not help thinking it very odd that no one
in the house had hitherto mentioned Mr. Brian Harper's expected return.

"Shall you not be very glad, Mary, to see Uncle Brian. You have heard,
of course, how soon he will be here?"

"Uncle Brian here!--And nobody told us. Only think, papa"--

"My dear Mary!" There was a gentleness in the Squire's voice more
startling even than his violence.

"Did you know, papa, that Uncle Brian is coming home?"

"I think--I--Yes"--with a struggle at recollection--"my son-in-law told
me that some commercial business which Brian is transacting for him will
bring my brother home. I shall be very happy to see him. You, too, will
all be delighted to see your Uncle Brian."

"An uncle? The usual rich uncle from abroad, eh?" whispered Mr. Grimes
to Agatha. "I ask merely for your own sake, ma'am, and that of my friend
Nathanael."

Agatha curled her lip. That the fellow should dare to speak of "my
friend Nathanael!" She glanced at Mary that they might leave the
drawing-room, when seeing her father-in-law was about to speak she
paused.

The old Squire rose in his customary manner of giving healths. His voice
was quavering but loud, as if he could scarcely hear it himself, and
tried to make it rise above a whirl of sounds that filled his brain. "My
friends and children--my"--here he looked uncertainly at Agatha--"Yes,
I remember, my daughter-in-law--allow me to give one toast more--Health,
long life, and every blessing to my son--my youngest, worthiest, _only_
remaining son and heir, Nathanael."

"_Only_ son!"--Every one recoiled. The worn-out brain had certainly
given way. Mary and Eulalie exchanged frightened glances. Agatha alone,
touched by the unexpected tribute to her husband, did not notice the one
momentous word.

"Now, Squire, that's hardly fair," cried Mr. Grimes, bursting into a
hoarse vinous laugh. "A man may go wrong sometimes, but to be thrown
overboard for it, and by one's father, too--think better of it,
old fellow. And ladies by way of an antidote, allow me to give a
toast--Success to my worthy and honourable--_exceedingly_ honourable
client, Major Frederick Harper."

The old Squire leaped up in his chair, with eyes starting from their
sockets. His lips gurgled ou