g that the papers on his table had been
destined for a different address, while the letter of the Princess had,
in all probability, been despatched to the Foreign Office, and was now
either confounding or amusing the authorities in Downing Street. While
Harcourt laughed over the blunder, he derived no small gratification
from thinking that nothing but great geniuses ever fell into these
mistakes, and was about to write off in this very spirit to Upton,
when he suddenly bethought him that, before an answer could arrive, he
himself would be far away on his journey to India.

"I asked nothing," said he, "that could be difficult to reply to. It was
plain enough, too, that I only wanted such information as he could
have given me off-hand. If I could but assure Glencore that the boy
was worthy of him,--that there was stuff to give good promise of future
excellence, that he was honorable and manly in all his dealings,--who
knows what effect such assurance might have had? There are days when it
strikes me Glencore would give half his fortune to have the youth beside
him, and be able to call him his own. Why he cannot, does not do it, is
a mystery which I am unable to fathom. He never gave me his confidence
on this head; indeed, he gave me something like a rebuff one evening,
when he erroneously fancied that I wanted to probe the mysterious
secret. It shows how much he knows of my nature," added he, laughing.
"Why, I'd rather carry a man's trunk or his portmanteau on my back than
his family secrets in my heart. I could rest and lay down my burden in
the one case,--in the other, there's never a moment of repose! And now
Glencore is to be here this very day--the ninth--to learn my news. The
poor fellow comes up from Wales, just to talk over these matters, and I
have nothing to offer him but this blundering epistle. Ay, here 's the
letter:--

"Dear Harcourt,--Let me have a mutton-chop with you on the ninth, and
give me, if you can, the evening after it.

"Yours,

"Glencore."

"A man must be ill off for counsel and advice when he thinks of such aid
as mine. Heaven knows, I never was such a brilliant manager of my own
fortunes that any one should trust his destinies in my hands. Well, he
shall have the mutton-chop, and a good glass of old port after it; and
the evening, or, if he likes it, the night shall be at his disposal."
And with this resolve, Harcourt, having given orders for dinner at
six, issued forth to stroll down t