polite." In fact, he never attacks a man who has more than ten thousand
a year. Like a London tradesman, he never presents his bill as long as
you give him fresh orders that will increase it; but once prove yourself
to be "cleaned out," by no longer swelling the amount, and he pounces
upon you, and demands a post-obit bond upon the next world, which, like
all others, will probably be found very disagreeable and inconvenient to
liquidate. Conscience, therefore, is not an honest, sturdy adviser, but
a sneaking scoundrel, who allows you to run into his debt, never caring
to tell you, as a caution, but rather concealing your bill from you, as
long as there is a chance of your increasing its length--satisfied that,
eventually, he must be paid in some shape or other.

The McElvinas, who could not leave Emily by herself, took up their abode
at the Hall, until the necessary arrangements had been completed, and
then removed with her to the cottage, that they might attend to their
own affairs. Emily was deeply affected at the loss of her mother. She
had always been a kind and indulgent friend, who had treated her more as
an equal than as one subject to authority and control. The McElvinas
were anxious to remove Emily from the Hall, where every object that
presented itself formed a link of association with her loss, and,
trifles in themselves, would occasion a fresh burst of grief from the
affectionate and sorrowful girl. And she may be pardoned when I state,
that, perhaps, the bitterest tears which were shed were those when she
threw herself on that sofa where she had remained after the abrupt
departure of William Seymour.

The vicar hastened to offer his condolence; and finding that Emily was
as resigned as could be expected, after a long visit walked out with
McElvina, that he might have a more detailed account of the unfortunate
event. McElvina related it circumstantially, but without communicating
the suspicions which the story of the grooms had occasioned, for he was
aware that the vicar was too charitable to allow anything but positive
evidence to be of weight in an accusation so degrading to human nature.

"It is strange," observed the vicar, very gravely, "but it seems as if a
fatality attended the possessors of this splendid estate. The death of
Admiral de Courcy was under most painful circumstances, without friend
or relation to close his eyes; it was followed by that of his immediate
heir, who was drowned a