"Why, it seems that he has heard some vague reports of poor Frank's extravagance, and Frank is rather afraid or ashamed to meet him." "Ay--a very great fault extravagance in the young!--destroys independence; ruins or enslaves the future. Great fault--very! And what does youth want that it should be extravagant? Has it not every thing in itself, merely because it _is_? Youth is youth--what needs it more?" Egerton rose as he said this, and retired to his writing-table, and in his turn opened his correspondence. Randal took up the newspaper, and endeavored, but in vain, to conjecture what had excited the minister's exclamation, and the reverie that succeeded it. Egerton suddenly and sharply turned round in his chair--"If you have done with the _Times_, have the goodness to place it here." Randal had just obeyed, when a knock at the street-door was heard, and presently Lord L'Estrange came into the room, with somewhat a quicker step, and somewhat a gayer mien than usual. Audley's hand, as if mechanically, fell upon the newspaper--fell upon that part of the columns devoted to births, deaths, and marriages. Randal stood by, and noted; then, bowing to L'Estrange, left the room. "Audley," said L'Estrange, "I have had an adventure since I saw you--an adventure that reopened the Past, and may influence my future." "How?" "In the first place, I have met with a relation of--of--the Avenels." "Indeed! Whom--Richard Avenel?" "Richard--Richard--who is he? Oh, I remember; the wild lad who went off to America; but that was when I was a mere child." "That Richard Avenel is now a rich thriving trader, and his marriage is in this newspaper--married to an honorable Mrs. M'Catchley. Well--in this country--who should plume himself on birth?" "You did not say so always, Egerton," replied Harley, with a tone of mournful reproach. "And I say so now, pertinently to a Mrs. M'Catchley, not to the heir of the L'Estranges But no more of these--these Avenels." "Yes, more of them. I tell you I have met a relation of theirs--a nephew of--of--" "Of Richard Avenel's?" interrupted Egerton; and then added in the slow, deliberate, argumentative tone in which he was wont to speak in public. "Richard Avenel the trader! I saw him once--a presuming and intolerable man!" "The nephew has not those sins. He is full of promise, of modesty, yet of pride. And his countenance--oh, Egerton, he has _her_ eyes." Egerton made no answer. And Harley resumed-- "I had thought of placing him under your care. I knew you would provide for him." "I will. Bring him hither," cried Egerton eagerly. "All that I can do to prove my--regard for a wish of yours." Harley pressed his friend's hand warmly. "I thank you from my heart; the Audley of my boyhood speaks now. But the young man has decided otherwise; and I do not blame him. Nay, I rejoice that he chooses a career in which if he find hardship, he may escape dependence." "And that career is--" "Letters?"