But to Walter it was more difficult thus to pray and wait, to let patience have its perfect work. Nor was it want of faith in God's promises alone that gave bitterness to the spirit of the young man. One passion that struggled in his breast robbed him entirely of that inward peace which lightened the burden of Viner. It was with feelings of mingled resentment and envy that Walter regarded Ned Goldie, the fruiterer's son. From him, he had received, when he first came to the village, that insult which still rankled in his mind, an insult followed by many others; for Ned was reputed a wit in E—, and the cheapest way of making people merry is by laughing at and ridiculing others. There was no end of Ned's jests upon the convict's son, which amused for a moment, and were then forgotten by all but him at whose expense they were made. And Ned was in a position to raise some envy amongst those of his own class in life. Singularly favoured by nature—handsome, intelligent, full of health and spirits—Ned was a favourite with all. Often would he drop in to spend a half-hour at Viner's quiet home. Nelly could not but own that he was a very pleasant companion; his playful words (in her presence they were never ill-natured) often brought a smile to her pale face. Viner liked and felt interested in the merry-hearted lad; to Walter alone his society was as wormwood and gall. Then it was known that Ned was to succeed to his father's prosperous business, as his elder brothers were already provided for. Aleck had risen in the world even beyond his father's hopes. Possessed of uncommon talents, he now shared his master's business; a bridge that he had planned had made his name well-known, and he had just formed a marriage, which had raised him at once to fortune, with the only daughter of a retired coal merchant. The words of Goldie, spoken ten years before, had been verified, he had lived to see his son have a carriage of his own! Mat had been apprenticed to some business in London. It was noticed in the town that his parents spoke less frequently of him, that inquiries after his prospects were answered shortly by his father, and made his pale, sickly mother look sad. People could not forget his unchecked habit of gambling, his profane language, his love of bad company: it was even rumoured that he had got into some scrape in London, but nothing certain was known upon the subject. This, and Mrs. Goldie's feeble state of health, seemed, however, the only drawbacks upon the prosperity of the fruiterer; his increasing stoutness and the ruddiness of his face told of comfort, good living, and an easy life.