And so the first days of Everett's love were as cloudless and divinely radiant as a summer dawn. But events were gathering, like storm-clouds, about the house of Gray. Disaster, most unforeseen, was impending over this family. For Mr. Gray, though, as we have said, a practical and matter-of-fact man, and having neither sympathy nor patience with "visionary schemes or ideas," had yet, as practical men will do, indulged in divers speculations during his life, in one of which he had at last been induced to embark to the utmost extent. Of course, it seemed safe and reasonable enough, even to the banker's shrewd eyes; but, nevertheless, it proved as delusive and destructive as any that ever led a less worldly man astray. The fair-seeming bubble burst, and the rich man of one day found himself on the morrow virtually reduced to beggary. All he had had it in his power to risk was gone, and liabilities remained to the extent of twice as much. The crash came, the bank stopped payment, and the unhappy man was stricken to the dust. He never lifted up his head again. The shrewd man of the world utterly succumbed beneath this blow of fate; it killed him. Old Mr. Gray died of that supposed disease, a broken heart,--leaving a legacy of ruin, or the alternative of disgrace, to his heir. The reins of government thus fell into Everett's hands. "The poor Grays! it's all over with them!" said the pitying world. And, indeed, the way in which the young man proceeded to arrange his father's affairs savored no less of the Visionary than had every action of his life theretofore. Captain Gray, who hastened home from his gay quarters in Dublin, on the disastrous news reaching him, found his brother already deeply engaged with lawyers, bills, and deeds. "You know, Richard, there is but one thing to be done," he said, in his usual simple, earnest way; "we must cut off the entail, and sell the property to pay my father's debts. It is a hard thing to do,--to part with the old place; but it would be worse, bitterer pain and crueler shame, to hold it, with the money that, whatever the worldly code of morality may say, is not _ours_. There must be no widows and orphans reduced to poverty through us. Thank God, there will be enough produced by the sale of the estate to clear off every liability,--to the last shilling. You feel with me in this matter?" he went on, confidently appealing to his brother; yet with a certain inflection of anxiety in his voice. It would have wounded Everett cruelly, had he been misunderstood or rebuffed in this. "You have your commission, and Uncle Everett's legacy, and the reversion of my mother's fortune, which will not be touched. This act of justice, therefore, can injure no one."