He started a little when I addressed him by name, as if reviving from deep reverie—­then arose and extended his hand to me, grasping mine firmly when I gave it to him, which I did unwillingly I confess.

“Miriam,” he said, “this is all very dreadful!” subsiding into his seat again with a groan, and looking steadily and silently into the fire for some minutes afterward.  “Very dreadful!” he repeated, shaking his head dismally; “wholly unforeseen!”

He glanced at me furtively once or twice to observe the effect of his words—­his manner.  Disappointed probably by my silence and coolness, he again affected to be absorbed in contemplation.

“Have we any thing left?” I asked quietly, at last—­weary as I was of this histrionic performance of his, and anxious for the truth.

“Nothing,” was the gloomy reply that fell on my ear—­on my heart like molten lead; “nothing but what you know of.  This house, this furniture, well preserved it is true, but old and out of style.  Your carriage and horses—­diamonds—­in short, what you have in hand.  That is all you have left of the great estate of your mother.”

“It is enough to keep the wolf from the door, at all events,” I remarked quietly, “and I am thankful for a bare competence; but why, under existing circumstances, were you in such haste to remove the contents of the iron chest behind the mirror, a portion of which you added to in September?”

He rose with dignity and advanced to the corner of the mantel-shelf, on which he leaned in a perfectly self-possessed position, one foot crossed lightly over the other, I remember, and one hand at his side—­a favorite attitude of his.  He interrupted my interrogatory with another, ever an effectual aid in browbeating.

“How did you become possessed of the knowledge that I kept gold there?” he asked, coolly; “I had meant to have preserved the secret of that spring until your majority, but you women penetrate every thing.  No, my dear Miriam,” he continued, without waiting for an answer, “unfortunately, the gold you refer to was exchanged for worthless bank-stocks in September last, according to the requisitions of your father’s will; and, as that was the latest paid in of the loans he had made, and as all other means had been invested in like manner (and with a promptness characteristic of me, I believe I may say without vanity), as they fell into my hands.  You will perceive, very clearly, that every thing, beyond the property I have here pointed out to you, is swept away.”

I sat confounded by his consummate mendacity.  His manner was entirely changed now—­from one of gloomy depression, and absence of mind, to jaunty self-complacency, and even a degree of defiance was blended with his habitual coolness.  It was only from his lurid and kaleidoscopic eyes, on which the light from an opposite window fell sharply, as he was speaking, that a glimpse of the inner man could be obtained.  There was something confused and excited in their expression that did not escape me, but I kept my counsel, bewildered as I was.