you are bid.

Mountiford, tell me what you

know about this."

"I know nothing, sir," said my cousin. have never seen the young Lochinvar; and I don't particularly care if I never do. You had better apply to Mr. Duchesne; he seems to be much the best informed on the subject, as he is certainly the most interested in it amongst us; it really signifies little or nothing to me."

"Don't it?" said Mr. Duchesne. "You seem to forget, captain, that if I don't get your cousin, you don't get my daughter and eighty thousand pounds."

"I don't forget it at all," said Mountiford; and his lips seemed to add, though the words did not come forth, "Your daughter be blowed."

"O Mountiford, Mountiford!" said Lady Crawdour, imploringly.

"Hold your tongue, sir," said his father.

"With pleasure, sir," said Mountiford.

"But I must say, Mr. Duchesne," continued my uncle, "that you are scarcely fair or reasonable in this. Even if this girl were not to marry you, that could not make the match between my son and your daughter a less desirable one for both parties."

་

May be not, for your son," said Mr. Duchesne, with an amusing grin; "but my daughter is another question. Lord John Randolph proposed for her this morning, and the answer I give him just depends on how matters are settled now betwixt Miss Lilla an' me."

"Whe-w!" said Mountiford. "O Mr. Duchesne!" cried Lady Crawdour; while my uncle banged his fist on the table, and exclaimed, "Curse it! Mr. Duchesne; you don't intend to go back of your word,—do you?"

"It ain't no going back of my word,"

said Mr. Duchesne, doggedly. "I said from the fust as I would give my consent an' the money, if your niece married me; but I never said as how I would do it, else."

"Oh, but Mr. Duchesne!" cried Lady Crawdour, "you could never think of such a thing. He's such a character!"

"He's a lord, m' lady," said Mr. Duchesne; "and as to character, we mustn't look too close into that with nobody," nodding significantly at my cousin Mountiford, who, if not very much worse, was certainly not at all better than a great many other young men in the world. It was well known that some years ago a gamekeeper's daughter in the neighbourhood had had a baby which she was totally unable to account for, but whose existence the public voice of the village ascribed to Sir John Crawdour's son and heir. The gamekeeper, his daughter, and the poor unaccountable baby had after

wards emigrated, with funds,-so again said the public voice of Crawdour,-supplied from Mountiford's purse. When Mr. Duchesne nodded at my cousin, he meant I believe, and so I am sure did they--to remind him and his mother of this little incident, and others, perhaps, of a similar nature, but known only to the conscience of my cousin Mountiford.

Though not a polite expression, my uncle had spoken the truth when he called his wife a fool. But a sound wisdom dictated his remonstrance and arguments with Mr. Duchesne.

"Come," he said, "you're a man of the world, Mr. Duchesne; and though I admit that you made no exact promise beyond what you have stated, I think you will see that it will be better for all parties that this match, at least, shall go on. If your daughter married Lord John Randolph, she

would be a nobleman's wife, certainly, a distinction which my son cannot offer her,but on the other hand, this man hasn't a penny-piece in the world, and is overwhelmed with debts and difficulties; while, though my son may require a little ready money (Mountiford had evidently told his father of his debts, or Sir John suspected them), the bulk of your daughter's fortune will be safely secured, with my estates, to her children.”

That may be," said Mr. Duchesne; "but character or no character,—money

money, settlement or no

or no

settlement,-my

daughter does not marry your son, unless

your

niece marries me. That's my word, Sir John, to the whole of ye; an' I don't go back of it."

My uncle was wise, but Mr. Duchesne was wiser. I have no doubt at all that he preferred my cousin to Lord John Randolph for a son-in-law, and for the reasons my uncle had enumerated; and that had I not been in the