n Forster that a
gentleman requested to speak to him.

"I asked the gentleman's name, sir," observed the clerk, shutting to the
door, "but he did not choose to give it. He has a little girl with
him."

"Very well, Scratton, the little girl cannot concern me," replied the
old lawyer; "ask him to walk in;"--and he again conned over the brief,
not choosing to lose the minute which might elapse before he was again
to be interrupted. The door was reopened, and Edward Forster, with
Amber holding him by the hand, entered the room.

"Your servant, sir. Scratton, a chair--two chairs, Scratton. I beg
your pardon, young lady."

When the clerk had retired, Mr John Forster commenced as usual. "Now,
sir, may I request the favour of asking your business with me?"

"You do not recollect me; nor am I surprised at it, as it is fifteen
years since we last met. Time and suffering, which have worn me to a
skeleton, have also worn out the remembrance of a brother. I am Edward
Forster."

"Edward Forster!--humph! Well, I did not recollect you; but I'm very
glad to see you, brother. Very strange never have heard of one of my
family for years, and now they all turn up at once! No sooner get rid
of one than up starts another. Nicholas came from the Lord knows where,
the other day."

Edward Forster, who was better acquainted with his brother's character
than Newton, took no notice of the abruptness of his remarks, but
replied:--

"Nicholas! Is he then alive? I shall be delighted to see him."

"Humph!" replied John, "I was delighted to get rid of him. Take care of
your watch or spectacles when you meet him."

"Indeed, brother! I trust he is not such a character."

"But he is a character, I can tell you; not what you suppose--he's
honest enough. Let me see if my memory serves me, brother Edward, we
last met when you were passing through London on your way to ---, having
been invalided, and having obtained a pension of forty pounds per annum
for a severe wound received in action. And pray, brother, where have
you been ever since?"

"At the same spot, from which I probably never should have been induced
to remove, had it not been for the sake of this little girl who is now
with me."

"And pray who may be that little girl? is she your daughter?"

"Only by adoption."

"Humph, brother! for a half-pay lieutenant that appears rather an
expensive whim!--bad enough to maintain children of our own begetting."

"You say t