“Mr. Anthony Hurdlestone,” he said, “I hope you will not consider my present visit an intrusion, when I inform you that I am your near kinsman, the son of that Edward Wildegrave who held the office of judge for so many years in India, in which country he died about six years ago.  My father and your mother were first cousins by the father’s side.  Brought up in a distant part of England, I never had an opportunity of falling in with the only remaining branch of the Wildegrave family; and it was not until the death of my father, which left me an independent man, that I was even aware of your existence.  A few months ago I bought the property of Milbank, in the parish of Ashton, which once belonged to my unfortunate uncle; and I heard your history from the wife of our farm servant, Ruth Candler.  This led me to make many inquires about you; and Ruth’s relations were fully confirmed by the statements of my lawyer.  His account of your early trials and singular position created in my mind such an intense interest in your fate, that I lost no time in riding over to offer my services, and a share of my house until you can arrange your plans for the future.  I hope you will not refuse to grant me this favor.  My offer is made in the sincerity of friendship; and I shall be deeply disappointed if you refuse to accept it.”

“I will most thankfully accept it,” said Anthony, his fine face glowing with pleasure at this unexpected meeting.  “But are you certain, Mr. Wildegrave, that my doing so will in no way inconvenience you?”

“Inconvenience me? a bachelor!  Your society will be a great acquisition.”

“And poor Ruth Candler—­is she still living?  She was a mother to me during my motherless infancy, and I shall be so glad to see her again.  As to you, Mr. Wildegrave, I cannot express half the gratitude I feel for your disinterested kindness.  The only circumstance which casts the least damp upon the pleasure I anticipate in my visit to Ashton, is the near vicinity of my father, who may take it into his head to imagine that I come there in order to be a spy upon his actions.”

“I know the unhappy circumstances in which you are placed; yet I think that we shall be able to overrule them for your good.  However disagreeable your intercourse with such a man must be, it is not prudent to lose sight of him altogether.  While you are in his immediate neighborhood, he cannot easily forget that he has a son.  That artful designing old scoundrel, Grenard Pike, will do all in his power to keep you apart.  Your living with me will not affect Mr. Hurdlestone’s pocket; and his seeing you at church will remind him, at least once a week, that you are alive.”

“Church!  Can a man destitute of charity feel any pleasure in attending a place of worship, that teaches him that his dearest enjoyment is a deadly sin?”