with great liberality to James St. Leger. The
poor fellow has lost his voice: you would perceive in conversation how
very feeble and uncertain it was. It is utterly powerless in the
reading-desk; and yet Mr. Thomas has insisted upon retaining him--paying
his salary, and doing all the duty himself. As long as there was any
hope of recovery, to this St. Leger most unwillingly submitted; but, now
he despairs of ever again being useful, it is plain it can no longer be
done."

"And what is to become of him?" exclaimed Lettice.

She knew what it was to be utterly without resource--she knew how
possible it was for such things to happen in this world--she knew what
it was to be hungry and to want bread, and be without the means of
assistance--to be friendless, helpless, and abandoned by all.

"What is to be done?" she cried.

"What is to be done?" said the general, rather testily. "Why, the young
fellow must turn his hand to something else. None but a fool _starves_."

"Ay, but," said Edgar, shaking his head, "but what is that something? I
see no prospect for one incapacitated by his cloth for enlisting as a
soldier or standing behind a counter, and by his illness for doing any
thing consistent with his profession."

"I should think he might write a canting book," said the general with a
sneer; "_that_ would be sure to sell."

"Whatever book St. Leger wrote," Edgar answered coldly, "would be a good
one, whether _canting_ or not. But he can not write a book. The fatigue,
the stooping, would be intolerable to his chest in its present irritable
state. Besides, if he did write a book, it's a hundred to one whether he
got any thing for it; and, moreover, the book is not written; and there
is an old proverb which says, while the grass grows the horse starves.
He literally _will_ starve, if some expedient can not be hit upon."

"And that is too, too dreadful to think of," cried Mrs. Melwyn
piteously. "Oh, general!"

"Oh, papa! oh, Edgar! Can you think of nothing?" added Catharine in the
same tone.

"It would be a pity he should starve; for he is a remarkably
gentlemanlike, agreeable fellow," observed the general. "Edgar, do you
know what was meant by the term, one meets with in old books about
manners, of 'led captain?' I wish to heaven _I_ could have a led captain
like that."

"Oh, there was the chaplain as well as the led captain in those days,
papa," said Catherine, readily. "Dearest papa, if one could but persuade
y