"Vigorous steps have only to be taken to wrest the family estates in Auvergne from the usurpers who hold them. I have long fought for this, but so far, I grieve to say, vainly. My brother here has mistaken notions about the respectability of trade, and is content to vegetate." "Oh, you miserable old vegetable!" said Van Heldre to himself, as he gave his friend a droll look, and shook his head. "To vegetate in this out-of-the-way place when he should be watching over the welfare of his country, and as a nobleman of that land, striving to stem the tide of democracy. He will not do it; but if I live my nephew Henri shall, as soon as he can be rescued from the degrading influence of trade, and the clerk's stool in an office. Ah, my poor boy, I pity you, and I say out boldly that I am not surprised that you should have thrown up post after post in disgust, and refused to settle down to such sordid wretchedness." "My dear Marguerite! our visitors." "I must speak, George. Mr Van Heldre loves trade." "I do, ma'am." "Therefore he cannot feel with me." "Well, never mind, my dear. Let some one else be Count des Vignes, only let me be in peace, and don't fill poor Harry's head with that stuff just before he's leaving home to go up to the great city, where he will, I am sure, redeem the follies of the past, and prove himself a true man. Harry, my dear boy, we'll respect Aunt Margaret's opinions; but we will not follow them out. Van, old fellow, Leslie, Mr Pradelle, a glass of wine. We'll drink Harry's health. All filled? That's right. Harry, my boy, a true honest man is nature's nobleman. God speed you, my boy; and His blessing be upon all your works. Health and happiness to you, my son!" "Amen," said Van Heldre; and the simple old-fashioned health was drunk. "Eh, what's that--letters?" said Vine, as a servant entered the room and handed her master three. "For you, Mr Pradelle; for you, Harry, and for me. May we open them, Mrs Van Heldre? They may be important." "Of course, Mr Vine, of course." Pradelle opened his, glanced at it, and thrust it into his pocket. Harry did likewise. Mr Vine read his twice, then dropped it upon the table. "Papa!--father!" cried Louise, starting from her place, and running round to him as he stood up with a fierce angry light in his eyes, and the table was in confusion. "Tidings at last of the French estates, Mr Pradelle," whispered Aunt Margaret. "Papa, is anything wrong? Is it bad news?" cried Louise. "Wrong! Bad news!" he cried, flashing up from the quiet student to the stern man, stung to the quick by the announcement he had just received. "Van Heldre, old friend, you know how I strove among our connections and friends to place him where he might work and rise and prove himself my son." "Yes, yes, old fellow, but be calm." "Father, hush!" whispered Louise, as she glanced at Leslie's sympathetic countenance. "Hush! Be calm!"