On entering the library, whither he had preceded me by some minutes, as I had chosen to linger a little whilst I wished Conny good-night, I found the lamp lighted, glasses upon the table, and my uncle seated in an arm-chair near the open window. High overhead rode the brilliant moon; the soft night-wind rustled the leaves of the trees; and the wide grounds lay mottled with moonshine, and the shadows of bush and plant. I drew a chair to the window, lighted a cigar, and, as I felt the cool air breathing upon my face, exclaimed, “A Turk would call this paradise.” “And so might a Christian,” answered my uncle. “We ought to be happy. We ought to be grateful. I hope, I believe, I am. Few men have better reason to be satisfied with life than myself. I enjoy good health; my wife is the best of women; my girl is dutiful and loving; my brothers are spared to delight me with their society whenever they choose to see me, and,” he added, leaning forward and grasping my hand, “I have a nephew who is a thoroughly good fellow, and to whom I am as much attached as if he were my son.” I thanked him in warm and affectionate terms. “And _now_ what do you think of Dick?” he asked. “I think him a very fine fellow, and a very fine gentleman, which I did _not_ think him this morning.” “Ay, truly, he’s a gentleman in a much higher sense than mere behaviour and the power of talking well imply. He is charitable to a fault; so soft-hearted that he refused to be a magistrate because he said the position would cost him more than he was worth, as he never could agree to a conviction without endowing the families of the men he helped to send to gaol. He and I have been having a long talk about you, and I am delighted to say that he thinks well of my scheme.” “I hope,” said I, “that I didn’t offend him by my somewhat cool reception of him at the bank this morning?” “Not at all. He likes you, and believes he will like you better when he knows you better, which is the best assurance of future friendship a man can hold out.... I suppose you know that he is worth about forty thousand pounds?” “I think my father mentioned something of the kind to me.” “That is a great deal of money for a man to possess whose tastes are inexpensive, and who has only one child. His daughter’s name, as you know, is Theresa. She spent a few days with me some months ago, and I’ll bet you a hat that when you see her you’ll think her as handsome a girl as is anywhere to be met.” “What’s her age?” “One-and-twenty.” “Fair or dark?“