tenacious clinging to pretensions, sounding of important names, and maintenance of absurd fallacies,—­all having for their end the drawing a curtain over that real state of poverty there existing.  Indeed, it was no secret that even the M’Carstrow family (counting itself among the very few really distinguished families of the state, and notorious for the contempt in which they affected to hold all common people), had mortgaged their plantation and all its negroes for much more than their worth in ordinary times.  As for tradesmen’s bills, there were any quantity outstanding, without the shadow of a prospect of their being paid, notwithstanding importuners had frequently intimated that a place called the gaol was not far distant, and that the squire’s office was within a stone’s throw of “the corner.”  Colonel M’Carstrow, reports say, had some years ago got a deal of money by an unexplainable hocus pocus, but it was well nigh gone in gambling, and now he was keeping brothel society and rioting away his life faster than the race-horses he had formerly kept on the course could run.

Hospitality hides itself when friends are needy; and it will be seen here that Franconia had few friends-we mean friends in need.  The Rosebrook family formed an exception.  The good deacon, and his ever generous lady, had remained Franconia’s firmest friends; but so large and complicated were the demands against Marston, and so gross the charges of dishonour—­suspicion said he fraudulently made over his property to Graspum-that they dared not interpose for his relief; nor would Marston himself have permitted it.  The question now was, what was to be done with the dead body?

We left Franconia bathing its face, and smoothing the hair across its temples with her hand.  She cannot bury the body from her own home:—­no!  M’Carstow will not permit that.  She cannot consign it to the commissioners for the better regulation of the “poor house,"-her feelings repulse the thought.  One thought lightens her cares; she will straightway proceed to Mrs. Rosebrook’s villa,—­she will herself be the bearer of the mournful intelligence; while Harry will watch over the remains of the departed, until Daddy, who must be her guide through the city, shall return.  “I will go to prepare the next resting-place for uncle,” says Franconia, as if nerving herself to carry out the resolution.

“With your permission, missus,” returns Harry, touching her on the arm, and pointing through the grated window into the gloomy yard.  “Years since-before I passed through a tribulation worse than death-when we were going to be sold in the market, I called my brothers and sisters of the plantation together, and in that yard invoked heaven to be merciful to its fallen.  I was sold on that day; but heaven has been merciful to me; heaven has guided me through many weary pilgrimages, and brought me here to-night; and its protecting hand will yet restore me my wife and little ones.  Let us pray to-night; let us