all they could utter in reply. Poor children! A short time since they had accidentally met in the street, and they had agreed to try to escape now and then for a brief half-hour in the early morning from their prisons and to come here to weep together. They were deeply grieved to see how changed and broken their poor father looked, whilst he, gazing on them intently with his strange tearless eyes, marked with an inner shudder the signs of long and deep suffering in their pallid faces. They eagerly poured their sad tale of tyrannous oppression and wretchedness unspeakable into his sympathetic ears. He listened with burning indignation. The scales of infatuation fell at last from his inner vision. He saw the wretched woman whom he had made his wife in her true colours, partly at least. The man, the father, was roused in him. He bravely resolved to assert himself. He wrote down the girls' addresses, took affectionate leave of them, with a solemn promise that he would not let them remain another week in their present wretched state, and sat down on the bench which his children had just quitted to reflect seriously upon his and their position. After some hours' anxious pondering he rose again and wended his way home, with a firmer step, more erect figure, and more resolute mien than he had been able to display ever since his misfortune.

His wife was not in when he returned; she had gone to one of her numerous religious exercises. On his way he had suddenly remembered how, immediately after his bankruptcy, an old friend-a real one, not a mere sham married man with a pretty large family, had offered a refuge to his two daughters. He resolved to write to this friend at once, to ask him whether his kind offer would

a

still hold good. He knew that his wife kept stationery in her secretary, an antique Florentine cabinet which he had presented to her in the days of his splendour. He also recollected that he still retained a duplicate key to this in his possession. Impatient to write his letter and send it off, he made use of this duplicate key to open the cabinet. In looking for the required stationery, he accidentally stumbled upon a letter in the well-known handwriting of Father West, which irresistibly attracted his attention. He read it through. His pale face turned a shade paler still; his eyes flashed with angry indignation and bitter resentful feelings. There were some half-dozen more letters of the same kind. It is a most marvellous thing how even some of the craftiest men and women will blindly rush into most perilous blunders occasionally, without the least cause or reason for it apparently. Father West and Mrs. Ross had surely their amplest opportunities of interchanging their thoughts and feelings. Yet here was quite a collection of amorous epistles indited by this crafty priest to this female penitent of his, who habitually went at least once a week to confess her sins to him. The outraged husband placed the letters in his pocket-book, and relocked the cabinet. He had forgotten all about the letter he had intended to write. Just then there was a knock at the street-door, and a few instants after Mr. Slack, of Hammond & Boller's, was ushered in by the servant. He brought Mr. Ross the missive addressed to him at the office. George read it with considerable surprise; he had not even heard of Sir Alexander's death. From his sad experience of the man, made at the bitterest period of his life, he certainly had never entertained any expectations from that quarter, and he did not think

much of his chances now. Still he must go, of course. Why, this was the seventeenth of May, the very day, and it was close upon noon! He had not broken his fast yet, indeed, and felt rather faint; but as there was no time to be lost, he gladly accepted Slack's hearty invitation to a glass of sherry and a biscuit at the pub. round the corner, and left home in company with that gentle

man.

In one of the most stately solicitorial and proctorial mansions of the famous fields of Lincoln's Inn, in the large board-room of Prendergast & Whittie's extensive suite of offices, twenty-five eagerly expectant gentlemen were assembled -fifteen members of the Ross family, to wit, and ten representatives of the interests of as many metropolitan hospitals. George Ross was one of the party. The hospitallers sat together in a cluster on the right-hand side of the room; the centre was occupied by fourteen highly respectable and most substantial Rossites. Poor George Ross, who was, of course, simply a bankrupt beggar, and should not have been there at all if Sir Alexander had had any sense, sat apart by himself on the extreme left, ignominiously ignored by his relations, who could not be expected of course to recognise and forgive the man that had brought disgrace on the distinguished name of Ross.

At exactly one o'clock Mr. Prendergast, the senior partner of the firm, entered the room, attended by the head clerk, and accompanied by three leading barristers-at-law, famed for their lynx-eyedness and their power of diving into the innermost depth and recesses of a poor badgered witness's mind.

Mr. Prendergast opened proceedings by methodically calling over the names and designations of the late Sir Alexander's relations pre

sent. Some of them-George Ross, for instance-he knew personally; the rest were identified by the other relations. He then placed a small five-minutes' sand-glass in a conspicuous place upon the table before him, and, indicating with a wave of his richly-ringed right hand. the three barristers aforesaid, introduced them to the assembly as the gentlemen who, in conformity with the provisions of the will, would kindly act as 'scrutineers.' This strange preamble puzzled the relations not a little. What was the meaning of the sand-glass? and what were the scrutineers to scrutinise? George Ross was not puzzled, simply because he gave no attention to the proceedings. He felt very strange; he had passed through some harassing emotions in the morning; and three glasses of brandied sherry, which the generous-minded Mr. Slack had insisted on standing, taken upon an empty stomach, and only slightly qualified by a small biscuit, would seem to have attuned the poor fellow somewhat to the melancholy mood. He sat there absent and pondering.

After the usual formalities Mr. Prendergast read the will. The testator left most liberal legacies to a number of clerks and servants, and a very long list of large gifts to charitable institutions and for a variety of philanthropic and other purposes, with munificent bequests of from twenty to fifty thousand pounds each to the metropolitan hospitals, whose financial representatives had been invited to attend. With every fresh legacy and donation, droned forth in the monotonous voice of the reader, the relations grew more and more uneasy and restless. It seemed as if their turn would never come. And there appeared to be, indeed, some cause for anxiety on their part, when the sum-total of legacies, gifts, and bequests set forth had actually ex

ceeded already the formidable amount of eight hundred thousand pounds.

To George Ross it did not matter evidently; he sat there in his solitary corner, staring straight before him.

At last Mr. Prendergast proceeded to read the following clause of the will, which roused the attention and bewilderment of all parties interested (except George) to the highest pitch :

Now as regards my residuary estate, real and personal, of every description whatsoever, which, as per schedule here annexed, I estimate at the total value of twelve hundred thousand pounds'-(Here every one of the fourteen respect able Rossites involuntarily gave a great jump, whilst George still kept on dreaming)—' I order and direct as follows:

'I may proudly assert that I have through life been the architect of my own fortune; at all events, I was never indebted for even the most trifling help to any of my relations.' (Here the fourteen Rossites' countenances fell.)- From the days of my earliest infancy my relations have been. my bitterest enemies; and, for my own part, I must confess that I have never entertained the least tinge of affection for any of them, and that even up to the present moment my enmity and hatred of all my relations, without exception, has undergone no diminution.'-(The Rossites stared blankly at each other. 'Why bring us here, then, wretched old brute!' some of them murmured in a half-audible whisper.)— 'But notwithstanding'-(General attention now, and clearing of countenances-all except George Ross's, who looks more melancholy than ever)—' and although I have only quite recently been spitefully thwarted by some of my nearest and dearest relations in the last

eager wish of my life, viz. to die on an estate of my own near the place of my birth'-('There he is wrong, at all events,' from Ross of Pyketellin. We had no notion that it was he who wanted to buy Tushgiel') it occurs to me that, as I may be approaching the termination of my mortal career, it will be becoming and Christian in me to die in peace with all the world. I therefore now freely forgive all my relations, notably' (here follow the fifteen names and designations), 'all and every offence or injury I have ever suffered at their hands; and I trust that they all of them will forgive me in return all and every offence or injury done to them by me. And I sincerely hope that the sense of this mutual, Christian, and brotherly forgiveness will exercise a softening influence upon the minds of all and singular of my aforesaid fifteen relations; for upon such softening influence their chance of inheriting of me will altogether depend. I order and direct, therefore, that that one of my aforesaid fifteen relations, or of such of them as shall be present at the reading of this my last will and testament, who shall be the first to shed genuine tears of grief and sorrow within five minutes after the reading of this clause, to be counted and measured by means of a properly-gauged and correctly-adjusted sand-glass-shall be my absolute universal legatee. Should, as I fondly hope, several-nay, maybe, all my aforesaid now dearly-beloved relations burst simultaneously into genuine weeping, my residuary estate shall be divided among them in as many shares as there may happen to be simultaneously first genuine weepers. Should-which, however, I can hardly bring my mind to believethe five stipulated minutes elapse, without any of my aforesaid fifteen relations shedding tears of genuine

grief and sorrow, I hereby direct my solicitor, Mr. John Prendergast, to open the sealed enclosure marked A, and act according to the instructions contained therein.'

'Now then, attention, gentlemen all cried the solicitor. 'I invert the glass; and you, gentlemen'turning to the scrutineers' do your duty.'

If a bombshell had suddenly burst in the midst of the 'expect ant heirs,' it could not possibly have flabbergasted them more, to use an expressive vulgarism, than this most whimsical and eccentric way of their deceased relation to have a Parthian fling at them. The idea of any of this lot of dry Scotchmen being expected to shed genuine tears of grief and sorrow at five minutes' notice was utterly preposterous. Indignation at having thus been tricked into expectancy soon took the place of amazement, and angry exclamations, loud and deep, were heard from several of the fourteen whilst the sands were running.

George Ross had all this time sat in his solitary nook, absent and pondering, and with a deeper and deeper shade of melancholy settling over his brow and face. Poor fellow! he saw his unhappy children before him in his mind's eye, as he had seen them this very morning, in their helpless and hopeless misery. He saw his wretched worthless wife pass before him, who had so vilely betrayed him, and had inflicted such sufferings upon those dearest to him. And the sherry asserted its powerful influence more and more upon his shattered nervous organisation. And as he sat there gazing and pondering, and suffering deep distress of mind, behold! suddenly the sluices of his lachrymal glands opened for the first time since his earliest recollec

tion, and an abundant stream of tears came rushing from his eyes unconsciously, ere yet half the sands had run their course.

'Let me congratulate you, my dear Mr. Ross!' shouted Mr. Prendergast and every one of the three scrutineers at the same moment; and George Ross found himself pressed in warm friendly embraces, and passed from one to the other of his dear relations (who could have cried indeed now-with vexation), ere he had conceived the least notion of what it all meant.

Some three hours later, Mr. George Ross, a millionaire indeed now, left Mr. Prendergast's private office with a thousand pounds in notes and gold in his pocket. He had handed the letters found in his wife's secretary that morning to the solicitor, and instructed him to take all requisite steps to obtain a divorce for him from this vile woman as fast as the law might be made to march by unbounded wealth. He went, attended by Prendergast & Whittie's head clerk and two private police-agents, to take his children away with him to the late Sir Alexander's mansion, which formed part of the residuary estate so whimsically inherited by him. He sent the head clerk to Father West that very night, to obtain from that pious priest the address of the Jesuit establishment in France to which his poor boy George had been sent, and he took proper steps at once to have him brought back to England.

Need more be added? I think not, except that from this happy time forward George Ross shed many tears-mostly of joy, but none of them so precious surely as his first tears-the most precious indeed ever heard of in ancient or in modern history.

CHAPTER XVII.

M. DE GAILLEFONTAINE was, as the phrase goes, in his element. That element was one of display and ostentation, and exactly suited. the tastes of the vain theatrical little Gascon. He rode beside René in the morning, and participated fully in the admiration and attention she attracted. He sat at her side or stood behind her chair at the Opera, and verily believed that half the lorgnettes turned upon Rene's box were directed to him. At her assemblies he was everywhere by turns, but nowhere long. Wherever there was a cluster of talkers he made himself its centre. He ordered everything; he knew every one. Wherever he went he heard his name whispered.

'Monsieur de Gaillefontaine, Monsieur de Gaillefontaine, Monsieur de Gaillefontaine-I have heard that name resounded ten times in five minutes,' growled a basso profundo, whose name was never heard. If a man introduces himself to the Queen, he says "by favour of M. de Gaillefontaine;" one can't enjoy one's wine for having to gulp with it the fact that it is selected by M. de Gaillefontaine. You are informed that this painter, or that singer, or t'other actor was introduced by M. de Gaillefontaine-M. de Gaillefontaine, bah! Marquis de Carabas!'

The title was caught up by the

VOL. XXI.

people of the theatre, and the basso was mentioned as having said a good thing. Perhaps a truth in the application was recognised.

M. de Gaillefontaine was not offended by his importance being recognised. Possibly he objected to the name of Carabas; but the title beliked him. It might look well on a card one day when custom sanctioned the adoption of the rank given him by these players. The Marquis de Gaillefontaine' sounded well. It looked good.

Beautiful Giovanna Roffielli pin ned him by the shoulders to th doorpost of her dressing-room, and carried the allusion still further.

'Answer, my Antoine,' said she. 'This beautiful ogress, who swallows up all the men worth having, you have made her take the form of a lion; tell me when you will transform her into a mouse, you cunning wicked Marquis de Carabas?'

'When you will consent to come and help me pick her bones, ma petite chatte,' answered M. de Gaillefontaine in a whisper.

He was a great favourite in the coulisses, whither a basket of champagne invariably attended him. Giovanna Roffielli and her sisterhood liked him and his champagne; and he adored the boardsthey pirouetted upon. He preferred them as women to René They had more than her freedom with less than her reserve, and pos

F