tural northern tone, which
sounded harsh in my ears, accustomed to the silvery utterance of the
South.

"'The landlord of the inn, where the coach stopped, directed me here,'
said I. 'I doubted at first the accuracy of his information, not being
aware that you had such a residence as this.'

"'Oh, it is all right!' he replied, 'only I was kept half an hour behind
time, waiting for you--that is all. I thought you must be coming by the
eight o'clock coach.'

"I expressed regret that he had had to wait; he made no answer, but
stirred the fire, as if to cover a movement of impatience; then he
scanned me again.

"I felt an inward satisfaction that I had not, in the first moment of
meeting, betrayed any warmth, any enthusiasm; that I had saluted this
man with a quiet and steady phlegm.

"'Have you quite broken with Tynedale and Seacombe?' he asked hastily.

"'I do not think I shall have any further communication with them; my
refusal of their proposals will, I fancy, operate as a barrier against
all future intercourse.'

"'Why,' said he, 'I may as well remind you at the very outset of our
connection, that "no man can serve two masters." Acquaintance with Lord
Tynedale will be incompatible with assistance from me.' There was a kind
of gratuitous menace in his eye as he looked at me in finishing this
observation.

"Feeling no disposition to reply to him, I contented myself with an
inward speculation on the differences which exist in the constitution
of men's minds. I do not know what inference Mr. Crimsworth drew from
my silence--whether he considered it a symptom of contumacity or an
evidence of my being cowed by his peremptory manner. After a long and
hard stare at me, he rose sharply from his seat.

"'To-morrow,' said he, 'I shall call your attention to some other
points; but now it is supper time, and Mrs. Crimsworth is probably
waiting; will you come?'

"He strode from the room, and I followed. In crossing the hall, I
wondered what Mrs. Crimsworth might be. 'Is she,' thought I, 'as alien
to what I like as Tynedale, Seacombe, the Misses Seacombe--as the
affectionate relative now striding before me? or is she better than
these? Shall I, in conversing with her, feel free to show something of
my real nature; or--' Further conjectures were arrested by my entrance
into the dining-room.

"A lamp, burning under a shade of ground-glass, showed a handsome
apartment, wainscoted with oak; supper was laid on the table; b