“I am willing to do anything, sir,” replied worthy Tom, with a very dutiful face, “anything to oblige you, and to fall in with your purposes, provided my own rights are not compromised.  I trust you will not blame me, sir, for looking to them, and for a natural anxiety to sustain the honor and prolong the name of my family.”

“Blame you, sirrah!” said his father, laughing.  “Confound me, but you’re a trump, and I am proud to hear you express such sentiments.  How the deuce did you get such a shrewd notion of the world?  But, no matter, attend to me.  Your rights shall not be compromised.  A clause shall be inserted in the marriage articles to the effect that in case of your recovery and restoration, the estates shall revert to you, as the legitimate heir.  Are you satisfied?”

“Perfectly, sir,” replied Thomas, “perfectly; on the understanding that these provisions are duly and properly carried out.”

“Undoubtedly they shall; and besides,” replied his father with a grin of triumph, “it will be only giving Dunroe a quid pro quo, for, as I told you, he is marrying your sister merely for the property, out of which you cut him.”

“Of course, my dear father,” replied the other, “I am in your hands; but, in the meantime, how and where am I to dispose of myself?”

“In the first place, keep your own secret—­that is the principal point—­in which case you may live wherever you wish; I will give you a liberal allowance until you can make your appearance with safety to Lucy’s prosperity.  The marriage will take place very soon; after which you can come and claim your own, when it will be too late for Dunroe to retract.  Here, for the present, is a check for two hundred and fifty; but, Tom, you must be frugal and cautious in its expenditure.  Don’t suffer yourself to break out:  always keep a firm hold of the helm.  Get a book in which you will mark down your expenses; for, mark me, you must render a strict account of this money.  On the day after to-morrow you must dine with Lucy and me; but, if you take my advice, you will see her as seldom as possible until after her marriage.  She wishes me to release her from her engagement, and she will attempt to seduce you to her side; but I warn you that this would be a useless step for you to take, as my mind is immovable on the subject.”

They then separated, each, but especially Mr. Ambrose Gray, as we must again call him, feeling very well satisfied with the result of the interview.

“Now,” said the baronet, as he paced the floor, after his son had gone, “am I not right, after all, in the views which I entertain of life?  I have sometimes been induced to fear that Providence has placed in human society a moral machinery which acts with retributive effect upon those who, in the practice of their lives, depart from what are considered his laws.  And yet here am I, whose whole life has been at variance with and disregarded them—­here