im out of doors,
and ultimately disinherit him. Angry, indignant, and in love, Thomas
Linden did a very rash and foolish thing; he persuaded Catherine Arnold
to consent to a private marriage, arguing that if the indissoluble knot
were once fairly tied, his father would, as a matter of course--he being
an only child--become reconciled to what he could no longer hope to
prevent or remedy.

The imprudent young man deceived both himself and her who trusted in his
pleasing plausibilities. Ten minutes after he had disclosed the marriage
to his father, he was turned, almost penniless, out of doors; and the
exasperated and inexorable old man refused to listen to any
representation in his favor, by whomsoever proffered, and finally, even
to permit the mention of his name in his hearing.

"It's of no use," said Mr. Flint, on returning for the last time, from a
mission undertaken to extort, if possible, some provision against
absolute starvation for the newly-wedded couple. "He is as cold and hard
as adamant, and I think, if possible, even more of a tiger than before.
He will be here presently to give instructions for his will."

"His will! Surely he will draw that up himself after his own
common-sense, business fashion?"

"He would unquestionably have done so a short time since; but some events
that have lately occurred have considerably shaken his estimate of his
own infallibility, and he is, moreover, determined, he says, that there
shall be no mistake as to effectually disinheriting his son. He has made
two or three heavy losses, and his mind is altogether in a very cankered,
distempered state."

Mr. Linden called, as he had promised to do, and gave us the written
heads of a will which he desired to have at once formally drawn up. By
this instrument he devised the Holmford estate, and all other property,
real and personal, of which he might die possessed, to certain charitable
institutions, in varying proportions, payable as soon after his death as
the property could be turned into money. "The statute of mortmain does
not give me much uneasiness," remarked the vindictive old man with a
bitter smile. "I shall last some time yet. I would have left it all to
you, Flint," he added, "only that I knew you would defeat my purpose by
giving it back to that disobedient, ungrateful, worthless boy."

"Do leave it to me," rejoined Mr. Flint, with grave emphasis, "and I
promise you faithfully this--that the wish respecting it, whatev