's name everybody had seemed to regard
him as a heavy burden, and he had so regarded himself. Now he was
envied by many, respected by many, taken by the hand as a friend by
those high in the world's esteem. When he had come near the Guestwick
Mansion in his old walks,--always, however, keeping at a great
distance lest the grumpy old lord should be down upon him and scold
him,--he had little dreamed that he and the grumpy old lord would
ever be together on such familiar terms, that he would tell to that
lord more of his private thoughts than to any other living being; yet
it had come to that. The grumpy old lord had now told him that that
gift of money was to be his whether Lily Dale accepted him or no.
"Indeed, the thing's done," said the grumpy lord, pulling out from
his pocket certain papers, "and you've got to receive the dividends
as they become due." Then, when Johnny had expostulated,--as,
indeed, the circumstances had left him no alternative but to
expostulate,--the earl had roughly bade him hold his tongue, telling
him that he would have to fetch Sir Raffle's boots directly he got
back to London. So the conversation had quickly turned itself away
to Sir Raffle, whom they had both ridiculed with much satisfaction.
"If he finds his way down here in September, Master Johnny, or in
any other month either, you may fit my head with a foolscap. Not
remember, indeed! Is it not wonderful that any man should make
himself so mean a fool?" All this was thought over again, as Eames
leaned upon the bridge. He remembered every word, and remembered
many other words,--earlier words, spoken years ago, filling him with
desolation as to the prospects of his life. It had seemed that his
friends had united in prophesying that the outlook into the world
for him was hopeless, and that the earning of bread must be for
ever beyond his power. And now his lines had fallen to him in very
pleasant places, and he was among those whom the world had determined
to caress. And yet, what would it all be if Lily would not share
his happiness? When he had carved that name on the rail, his love
for Lily had been an idea. It had now become a reality which might
probably be full of pain. If it were so,--if such should be the
result, of his wooing,--would not those old dreamy days have been
better than these--the days of his success?

It was one o'clock by the time that he reached his mother's house,
and he found her and his sister in a troubled and em