is, that you will leave this roof to-morrow, and will return at once to your parental mansion. For the remainder of the evening, I have to insist upon your remaining in your own chamber, and you will depart by the first train in the morning. As I shall not see you again, I now bid you farewell, with the earnest hope that, not yet utterly hardened in crime, you may live to redeem the shameful past.” With these words, the proprietor of “Ehrenbreitstein” turned on his heel, and stumped out of the room. Wilfred, who, during the foregoing oration, was prostrate upon his bed, turned himself to the wall on the Doctor’s exit, a prey to the deepest shame and sorrow. He was just sinking into a disturbed slumber, when he was aroused by a friendly arm being thrown round his neck, and, as he turned in the darkness, he felt a warm kiss imprinted upon his fevered brow by some one who was leaning over him, as he half-knelt by the bedside. “Manwaring, Manwaring, my dear old fellow,” cried a sympathetic voice, “don’t take this horrid matter so much to heart. All will be explained; I know it will. I felt sure from the first it was some devilry of that infernal cad, Cubleigh. You can’t think that I, your friend and companion, could ever think you guilty--you who are the dearest and best and noblest fellow I ever saw; you, who I know, and shall always gratefully remember, have done me good; you, whose advice and entreaties saved me from sin, and to whom I owe more than I can ever repay!” The speaker was the young Duke of Ribblesdale, and as he spoke, he nestled close to the forlorn youth, and threw his strong arms around him, and wetted him with his tears. “Look here,” he continued; “Massenger has told me you are to be sent home to-morrow in disgrace. It’s a beastly shame. But don’t think I shall remain here without you; I would bolt first. But I know my mother will remove me at Christmas if I ask her. Massenger is an old snob, and I have no pity for, nor patience with him. He told me not to speak to you again; but you see here I am, come to say good-bye and God bless you. We shall meet again, I know, in happier times.” Wilfred felt deeply moved by the affectionate kindness of his friend, but he was too weak and miserable to speak. He returned, however, the embrace, and then once more he was left alone to the company of his own sad thoughts. It is indeed grievous to reflect upon a blasted life. CHAPTER IX. A BRANCH IS LOPPED FROM THE FAMILY TREE. THE letter in which Dr. Massenger acquainted Mr. Manwaring with his son’s delinquency was a very matter-of-fact document, and stated the points which had come to his knowledge with minute and relentless exactness. It plainly expressed the writer’s deliberate conviction that Wilfred was a thief, and hinted at his regret that he had not been more particular before he had admitted him to the companionship of gentlemen of noble birth.