to see you. And what brings you to N----? Business?"

"Yes, business. Let us go within?"

Mr. Morton led the way to the parlour, where Master Tom, reperched
on the stool, was rapidly digesting the plundered muffin. Mr. Morton
dismissed him to play, and the pale gentleman took a chair.

"Mr. Morton," said he, glancing over his dress, "you see I am in
mourning. It is for your sister. I never got the better of that early
attachment--never."

"My sister! Good Heavens!" said Mr. Morton, turning very pale; "is she
dead? Poor Catherine!--and I not know of it! When did she die?"

"Not many days since; and--and--" said Mr. Spencer, greatly affected, "I
fear in want. I had been abroad for some months: on my return last week,
looking over the newspapers (for I always order them to be filed), I
read the short account of her lawsuit against Mr. Beaufort, some time
back. I resolved to find her out. I did so through the solicitor she
employed: it was too late; I arrived at her lodgings two days after
her--her burial. I then determined to visit poor Catherine's brother,
and learn if anything could be done for the children she had left
behind."

"She left but two. Philip, the elder, is very comfortably placed at
R----; the younger has his home with me; and Mrs. Morton is a moth--that
is to say, she takes great pains with him. Ehem! And my poor--poor
sister!"

"Is he like his mother?"

"Very much, when she was young--poor dear Catherine!"

"What age is he?"

"About ten, perhaps; I don't know exactly; much younger than the other.
And so she's dead!"

"Mr. Morton, I am an old bachelor" (here a sickly smile crossed Mr.
Spencer's face); "a small portion of my fortune is settled, it is true,
on my relations; but the rest is mine, and I live within my income.
The elder of these boys is probably old enough to begin to take care of
himself. But, the younger--perhaps you have a family of your own, and
can spare him!"

Mr. Morton hesitated, and twitched up his trousers. "Why," said he,
"this is very kind in you. I don't know--we'll see. The boy is out now;
come and dine with us at two--pot-luck. Well, so she is no more! Heigho!
Meanwhile, I'll talk it over with Mrs. M."

"I will be with you," said Mr. Spencer, rising.

"Ah!" sighed Mr. Morton, "if Catherine had but married you she would
have been a happy woman."

"I would have tried to make her so," said Mr. Spencer, as he turned away
his face and took his departure.

Two o'