The old fox-hunting laird, his father, though a free liver, had never been reckless or profligate; had never squandered or lost an acre of Earlshaugh; never drank or gambled to excess, nor been duped by his most boon companions; but on finding that he was getting too heavy for the saddle, and that the world, after all, was proving 'flat, stale, and unprofitable,' had latterly, for a couple of years before his death, buried himself in the somewhat dull and lonely if stately mansion of Earlshaugh, where he had for a second time, to the astonishment of all his friends, those of the Hunt particularly, betaken himself to matrimony, or been lured thereinto by his late wife's attractive and, as Sir Harry phrased it, 'most strategic' and enterprising companion, who had--as all the folks in the East Neuk said--contrived to 'wind him round her little finger,' by discovering and sedulously attending to and anticipating all his querulous wants and wishes; and thus, when he died, it was found that he had left her--as already stated--possessed of all he had in the world, to the manifest detriment and danger of his only son and daughter; and, worse still, it would seem that the widow was now in the hands of one more artful than herself--said to be a relation--one Mr. Hawkey Sharpe, into whose care and keeping she apparently confided everything. Roland's yearly allowance since he joined the army had not been meddled with; but deeming himself justly the entire heir of everything, it could scarcely be thought he would be content with that alone now. 'A black look-out, uncle,' said he grimly; 'so, prior to my return to Earlshaugh, to be forewarned is to be fore-armed.' 'Yes; but in this instance, my boy,' said Sir Harry, relinquishing for a moment the amber mouthpiece of his hookah, 'you scarcely know against what or against whom.' 'Nor can I, perhaps, until I see a lawyer on the subject.' 'Oh, d--n lawyers! Keep them out of it, if possible. The letters S.S.C. after a man's name always make me shiver.' 'And who is this Mr. Hawkey Sharpe, who seems to have installed himself at Earlshaugh?' asked Roland, after a brief pause. 'No one knows but your--your stepmother,' replied Sir Harry, with a grimace, as he kicked a hassock from under his foot. 'No one but she apparently; he seems a sharp fellow, in whom she trusts implicitly in all regarding the estate.' 'Where did he come from?' 'God knows; but he seems to be what our American cousins deem the acme of 'cuteness.' 'And that is----' 'A Yankee Jew attorney of English parentage,' replied Sir Harry, with a kind of smile, in which his nephew did not join.