system so widely different from all they had hitherto followed! It was like re-colonizing an empire, so subversive were all the innovations of what had preceded them. “Eh, Barton, we used to trip up these stairs more flippantly once on a time,” said a very handsome old man, whose well-powdered hair and queue were rather novelties in modern appearance, to a feeble figure who, assisted by his servant, was slowly toiling his way upwards. “How d' ye do, Glengariff?” said the other, with a weak smile. “So we used; and they were better days in every sense of the word.” “Not a doubt of it,” said the other. “Is that your destination?” And he pointed to a door inscribed with the title “Encumbered Estates.” “Ay!” said Barton, sighing. “It 's mine, too, I 'm sorry to say,” cried Lord Glengariff; “as I suppose, erelong, it will be that of every country gentleman in the land!” “We might have known it must come to this!” muttered the other, in a weak voice. “I don't think so,” broke in his Lordship, quickly. “I see no occasion at all for what amounts to an act of confiscation; why not give us time to settle with our creditors? Why not leave us to deal with our encumbrances in our own way? The whole thing is a regular political swindle, Barton; they wanted a new gentry that could be more easily managed than the old fellows, who had no station, no rank, but right ready to buy both one and the other by supporting--” “Can I be of any service to your Lordship?” interrupted a very over-dressed and much-gold-chained man, of about forty, with a great development of chest, set off to advantage by a very pretentious waistcoat. “Ah, Hankes! is Dunn come back yet?” asked Lord Glengariff. “No, my Lord; we expect him on Saturday. The telegraph is dated St. Cloud, where he is stopping with the Emperor.” Glengariff gave Barton a slight pinch in the arm, and a look of intense meaning at the words. “Nothing has been done in that matter of mine?” said Barton, feebly. “Jonas Barton is the name,” added he, coloring at the necessity of announcing himself. “Jonas Barton, of Curryglass House?” “Yes, that's it.” “Sold yesterday, under the Court, sir--for, let me see--” And he opened a small memorandum-book. “Griffith's valuation,” muttered he between his teeth, “was rather better than the Commissioner's,--yes, sir, they got a bargain of that property yesterday; it went for twenty-two thousand six hundred--” “Great God, sir; the whole estate?” “The whole estate; there is a tithe-rent charge--” “There, there, don't you see he does not hear you?” said Lord Glengariff, angrily. “Have you no room where he can sit down for half an hour or so?” And so saying, he assisted the servant to carry the now lifeless form into a small chamber beside them. The sick man rallied soon, and as quickly remembered where he was. “This is bad news, Glengariff,” said he, with a sickly effort at a smile. “Have you heard who was the buyer?”