wore had been honestly obtained, and which, in all his shifts
and adversities, he had never allowed himself to touch. This sum, with
the trifling deduction made for arrears due to the convent, Morton now
placed in Simon's hands. The old man clutched the money, which was
for the most in French gold, with a convulsive gripe: and then, as if
ashamed of the impulse, said--

"But you, sir--will any sum--that is, any reasonable sum--be of use to
you?"

"No! and if it were, it is neither yours nor mine--it is hers. Save it
for her, and add to it what you can."

While this conversation took place, Fanny had been consigned to the care
of Mrs. Boxer, and Philip now rose to see and bid her farewell before he
departed.

"I may come again to visit you, Mr. Gawtrey; and I pray Heaven to
find that you and Fanny have been a mutual blessing to each other. Oh,
remember how your son loved her!"

"He had a good heart, in spite of all his sins. Poor William!" said
Simon.

Philip Morton heard, and his lip curled with a sad and a just disdain.

If when, at the age of nineteen, William Gawtrey had quitted his
father's roof, the father had then remembered that the son's heart was
good,--the son had been alive still, an honest and a happy man. Do ye
not laugh, O ye all-listening Fiends! when men praise those dead whose
virtues they discovered not when alive? It takes much marble to build
the sepulchre--how little of lath and plaster would have repaired the
garret!

On turning into a small room adjoining the parlour in which Gawtrey
sat, Morton found Fanny standing gloomily by a dull, soot-grimed window,
which looked out on the dead walls of a small yard. Mrs. Boxer, seated
by a table, was employed in trimming a cap, and putting questions to
Fanny in that falsetto voice of endearment in which people not used to
children are apt to address them.

"And so, my dear, they've never taught you to read or write? You've been
sadly neglected, poor thing!"

"We must do our best to supply the deficiency," said Morton, as he
entered.

"Bless me, sir, is that you?" and the gouvernante bustled up and dropped
a low courtesy; for Morton, dressed then in the garb of a gentleman, was
of a mien and person calculated to strike the gaze of the vulgar.

"Ah, brother!" cried Fanny, for by that name he had taught her to call
him; and she flew to his side. "Come away--it's ugly there--it makes me
cold."

"My child, I told you you must stay; but I shall