the change, recurred to his thoughts
more freshly than ever, perhaps because before he went down he meant to
open the parcel, which accordingly he did.

Bank of England notes were in it, and not a line of writing on the white
paper that enfolded them. He turned it over, and then mechanically began
to count and add up the amount. Seventeen hundred pounds, neither more
nor less, and most assuredly his own. With the two thousand pounds he
already possessed, this sum would, independently of any exertions of his
own, bring him in nearly two hundred a-year. In case of failing health
this would be enough to live on modestly, either in England or on the
Continent.

He leaned his chin on his hand, and, with a dull contentment looked at
these thin, crisp papers. He had cared for his old uncle very much, and
been exceedingly comfortable with him, and now that he was forbidden to
mention his last gift, he began to feel (though this had fretted him at
first) that it would make him more independent of John.

But why should the old father have disliked to excite his son's surprise
and curiosity? Why, indeed, when he had laughed at the notion of John's
being capable of minding his doing as he pleased.

Valentine pondered over this as he locked up his property. It was not
yet eight o'clock, and as he put out the candle he had lighted to count
his notes by (for the March morning was dark), he heard wheels, and, on
going down, met John in the hall. He had come in before the
breakfast-hour, as had often been his custom when he meant to breakfast
with his father.

John's countenance showed a certain agitation. Valentine observing it,
gave him a quiet, matter-of-fact greeting, and talked of the weather. A
thaw had come on, and the snow was melting rapidly. For the moment John
seemed unable to answer, but when they got into the dining-room, he
said--

"I overtook St. George's groom. He had been to my house, he said,
thinking you were there. Your brother sent a message, rather an urgent
one, and this note to you. He wants you, it seems."

"Wants me, wants ME!" exclaimed Valentine. "What for?"

John shrugged his shoulders.

"Is he ill?" continued Valentine.

"The man did not say so."

Valentine read the note. It merely repeated that his brother wanted him.
What an extraordinary piece of thoughtlessness this seemed! Brandon
might have perceived that Valentine would be much needed by John that
day.

"You told me yesterday," said