representative of value, such a character invariably
means, that the party named suffers that attachment to carry him too far.
I wished, therefore, my kinsman had not made just such a speech; though it
in no manner shook my intentions in his favour.

"You are more ready to advise your friends to get married, than to set the
example," I answered, willing to divert the discourse a little. "You, who
must be turned of fifty, are still a bachelor."

"And so shall I remain through life. There was a time I might have
married, had I been rich; and now I am reasonably rich, I find other
things to employ my affections. Still, that is no reason you should not
leave me Clawbonny, though it is not probable I shall ever live to inherit
it. Notwithstanding, it is family property, and ought not to go out of the
name. I was afraid, if you were, lost at sea, or should die of any of
those outlandish fevers that sailors sometimes take, the place would get
into females, and there would no longer be a Wallingford at Clawbonny.
Miles, I do not grudge _you_ the possession of the property the least in
the world; but it would make me very unhappy to know one of those Hazens,
or Morgans, or Van-der-Schamps had it." Jack had mentioned the names of
the children of so many Miss Wallingfords, aunts or great-aunts, of mine,
and cousins of his own.--"Some of them may be nearer to you, by a
half-degree, or so, but none of them are as near to Clawbonny. It is
Wallingford land, and Wallingford land it ought to remain."

I was amused in spite of myself, and felt a disposition now, to push the
discourse further, in order better to understand my kinsman's character.

"Should neither of us two marry," I said, "and both die bachelors, what
would then be the fate of Clawbonny?"

"I have thought of all that, Miles, and here is my answer: Should such a
thing happen, and there be no other Wallingford left, then no
Wallingford would live to have his feelings hurt by knowing that a
Vander-dunder-Schamp, or whatever these Dutchmen ought to be called, is
living in his father's house; and no harm would be done. But, there _are_
Wallingfords besides you and me."

"This is quite new; for I had supposed we two were the last."

"Not so: Miles the first left two sons; our ancestor, the eldest, and one
younger, who removed into the colony of New Jersey, and whose descendants
still exist. The survivors of us two might go there in quest of our heir,
in the long run. But