“I rarely saw my sister,” Mr. Critchet continued, “after her marriage, but I heard from her frequently; and seldom looked at the Morning Post without seeing her name announced as having been present at a party the night before.  I did not envy her her life of dissipation, for I preferred to secure happiness in a different course; but still I could not help wondering how her husband managed to support such extravagance.  Too soon did I learn the secret; for one day he sought me out, and with a gloomy brow, announced that his purpose in visiting me was to obtain money to meet notes which were maturing.

“I did not feel surprised, and neither did I question him in regard to his circumstances.  I listened patiently to his expressions of regard, gave him a check on my bankers for two thousand pounds, and after he left my counting room I busied myself with my accounts, and tried to forget an unpleasant impression that his interview had left upon my mind.  A few days after I received a note from my brother-in-law, Mr. Follet—­”

“Follet?” I cried, in surprise; “then the young man who is still held by the commissioner is his son, and your nephew?”

Mr. Critchet gave a token of assent, and continued:—­

“In which he requested a further loan to meet some pressing engagements.  I complied with the den and, although I felt that I was wronging myself to do so.  A few weeks passed, and I was unmolested; but one morning I received a hurriedly written letter from my brother, and I saw with grief that, it was dated Fleet Street Prison, and that he had been arrested the night, before for debt, and now called on me in piteous expressions to save his name from disgrace.  I went to see him, and found that his wife was unacquainted with his situation, and that she was making preparations to have a grand party that night, at which she expected half the notables of London.  He pleaded long and earnestly, and at length I paid the claim that was brought against him, although it took many thousand pounds to do so.

“Three days afterwards I was visited by my sister, in company with her boy, a young man with dark eyes and a sinister expression of countenance, that too nearly resembled his father’s to be pleasing to me; although God knows I have tried to love the boy, and should have ultimately succeeded had he not behaved like a barbarian.

“My sister requested a private interview, which I readily granted; and then with tears, and groans, and lamentations, told me that her husband’s fate rested in my hands, and that if I wished to kill her I could by pursuing a harsh course.  I begged her to explain, but she threw herself upon her knees and vowed that she would never rise until I had promised to do as she wished.  I declined to make a profession that I did not understand, and at length I drew from her that her husband, the man whom she had married in opposition to my wishes, had forged my name to bills amounting to nearly fifty thousand pounds, and