During that interview he had a lesson taught him—that the future was to be estrangement, or something akin to it, between him and his family. He was to continue "Mr. Henry," never to disclose himself as a Paradyne, lest the authorities at the college should carp at it; in which case his means of assisting them at home might cease. He saw how it was—that he was valued only in the ratio he could contribute to their support. His generous love was thrown back upon him; his impulses of tenderness were repulsed; he was to be an acquaintance rather than a son. Mrs. Paradyne was resentful at his having counselled their removal to Orville, now that it was found Trace and the Loftus boys were in the College, which, of course, was manifestly unjust. Something very like a dispute took place about the proposed concealment of name. He refused to conceal it from Dr. Brabazon; she insisted that he should. He yielded at last: she was his mother: but he went away from the house wondering whether he had not better return to Germany. Thus it had gone on. Mr. Henry—or Arthur Paradyne, if you would prefer to call him so—bearing his burden as he best might, and toiling patiently to fulfil the obligations he cheerfully accepted as his own; obligations he never thought of repining at. His heart felt crushed; his mind had a weight upon it; but he only feared lest his health should fail and the dear ones suffer. "Look you," interrupted Dr. Brabazon, arousing himself from a reverie; "you must remain as 'Mr. Henry' for the present. The fact that you are Arthur Paradyne does not hurt the boys; but the declaring it thus suddenly would cause a commotion that might lead to—I don't know what. Until Christmas, at any rate, things shall go on as they have done. The competition for the Orville will then be over; and really, for my part, I don't see why you should not drop the name of Paradyne, if it pleases you to do so. No, I don't," added the doctor, contesting the point with himself aloud, as if he were disputing it with an antagonist; "and I don't see what business it is of other people's, or why anybody should carp at it. So that's settled. You are Mr. Henry still. But I wish you had disclosed the truth at the beginning. It would have made no difference." "I wish I could have done it, sir," he said, rising to take leave. "The concealment has told upon me. Thank you ever for your kindness to me this evening, Dr. Brabazon." "I call that young man the victim of circumstances," thought the master, "It's a good, and true, and earnest nature, I am sure; and——" Dr. Brabazon's words came to a standstill, as he followed into the hall. There was Mr. Henry propped against the front door, instead of letting himself out of it according to the custom of everyday mortals. "Why, what's the matter?" exclaimed the startled doctor, as the rays of the house-lamp fell on a white face of suffering.