“No,” said Alice, looking surprised at such a question at such a time. “Hum-m-me! then, indeed, this ‘ill wind’ has blown a great inheritance to Magnus. I suppose that after his uncle has somewhat recovered the shock of his bereavement he will recall Magnus. He will scarcely permit him to pursue the study of medicine now.” “I think that Magnus will prefer the study of some profession. I am sure that he wishes to live an earnest and useful life.” “Well, I do not know a more earnest purpose, or a more useful life, than that lived through in the proper administration of a large estate. By the way, Alice, I hope you have not, with your usual indifference in all things and to all persons, neglected to write to the poor boy during his banishment among total strangers in Baltimore?” “I write to him every week.” “That is right; perfectly right. I am very glad to hear it. Apropos, Alice, were not Magnus and Elsie very great friends?” “They were very much attached to each other,” replied Alice, with her innocent eyes still dilating with wonder at these queries. “‘Very much attached to each other.’ Hum-m-me! Mount Calm and Hemlock Hollow would form one very magnificent estate, joining as they do—about ten thousand acres, would they not be?” “Yes,” said Alice abstractedly. “Yes, certainly, that is it. Let us see—how old is this youth?” “About seventeen, I believe.” “Yes, and he will marry very early, if he can find a wife to suit him. He will settle very soon to serious, practical life. He is just the young man to do it. Alice, when he returns I hope you will not permit him quite to forget old friends. Stay—our Elsie is—twelve years of age?” “Not quite.” “Well, nearly twelve—then thirteen, fourteen, fifteen, sixteen—four years. Four years will quickly pass away; and our young gentleman can wait that long. At the end of four years I shall bring Elsie home from school. She will then be sixteen years of age. You were but a year older when you were married, Alice. Say, answer me—you were but seventeen when you were married, were you not?” “I was but seventeen,” replied Alice. And here the conference ended. General Garnet found Mr. Hardcastle in the extremity of grief. He had only received the dire intelligence of the loss of his only and well-beloved son, in a letter of condolence from the captain of the ship. He had nothing new, therefore, to learn from General Garnet, but thanked him for his visit and his sympathy. General Garnet remained with him all day and until a late hour of the night, when he took his leave.