marrying Miss Waddington for her money before I knew
that she was your granddaughter; nor have I now that I do know it."

"For her money! If you marry her for more money than her own fortune,
and perhaps a couple of thousands added to it, you are likely to be
mistaken."

"I shall never make any mistake of that kind. As far as I am
concerned, you are quite welcome, for me, to keep your two thousand
pounds."

"That's kind of you."

"I would marry her to-morrow without it. I am not at all sure that I
will marry her next year with it. If you exercise any authority over
her as her grandfather, I wish you would tell her so, as coming from
me."

"Upon my word you carry it high as a lover."

"Not too high, I hope, as a man."

"Well, George, remember this once for all"--and now the old man
spoke in a much more serious voice--"I will not interfere at all as
her grandfather. Nor will I have it known that I am such. Do you
understand that?"

"I understand, sir, that it is not your wish that it should be
generally talked of."

"And I trust that wish has been, and will be complied with by you."

This last speech was not put in the form of a question; but George
understood that it was intended to elicit from him a promise for the
future and an assurance as to the past.

"I have mentioned the circumstance to one intimate friend with whom I
was all but obliged to discuss the matter--"

"Obliged to discuss my private concerns, sir!"

"With one friend, sir; with two, indeed; I think--indeed, I fear I
have mentioned it to three."

"Oh! to three! obliged to discuss your own most private concerns as
well as mine with three intimate friends! You are lucky, sir, to have
so many intimate friends. As my concerns have been made known to them
as well as your own, may I ask who they are?"

George then gave up the three names. They were those of Mr. Harcourt,
the Rev. Arthur Wilkinson, and Miss Adela Gauntlet. His uncle was
very angry. Had he utterly denied the fact of his ever having
mentioned the matter to any one, and had it been afterwards
discovered that such denial was false, Mr. Bertram would not have
been by much so angry. The offence and the lie together, but joined
with the fear and deference to which the lie would have testified,
would be nothing so black as the offence without the lie, and without
the fear, and without the deference.

His uncle was very angry, but on that day he said nothing further
on the matter;