no distant day to do, and ask of you your consent to sanction my union with your daughter, I trust, sir, you will then do me the justice to admit that while, in respect to income, I am not unjustified in preferring a claim, that I have not resorted at any time, or under any influences, to surreptitiously obtain that which you are free to give or to withhold.” “Um! you admit that?” exclaimed Wilton, who had listened attentively to all that fell from his lips, and caught at the last expression. “I can conscientiously acquit myself of having at any time attempted to subvert that right,” returned Vivian. Old Wilton drew along breath, and then covered his face with his hands, in which attitude he sat for a few minutes, evidently plunged in a profound reverie. Both Flora and Hal watched him attentively and anxiously; at length he raised his head, and, addressing Hal, he said-- “I cannot conceal from myself that I am indebted to you for my life; I am equally conscious that I must look upon you as the saviour of my daughter’s life and honour. They are heavy debts, and very difficult to repay”---- “Spare me acknowledgments, I beg of you,” interrupted Hal, a little impetuously. “I have told you, sir, already, that I neither desire nor claim them; and I most earnestly assure you, that the only reward I looked for I have reaped--my grateful satisfaction at having been successful.” “Nevertheless, I feel that I owe to you something,” continued Wilton; “and in one way I can do a little towards confessing my obligation to you--and that is, by being candid with you. The world is full of disappointments--the sun resting on a valley field makes it appear a rich expanse of golden grain, but when we reach it, we find it a poor piece of grass land, thin, weedy, and worthless. Of such are some of our glowing expectations; they burn brightly in the eye of hope, but, like a brilliant flame consuming a flimsy material, realise nothing but ashes. I have had great hopes, high dreams, and proud anticipations--they have become nothing but dust. Now, Mr. Vivian, in the position in which I have been and am living, it is but natural, in suing for my daughter’s hand, you should expect with her at least a moderate fortune. She would have had a liberal dowry, but that expectations I have entertained will, to an almost inevitable certainty, not be realised. She will, therefore, have nothing from me upon her marriage--not a shilling. While she remains with me, of course she will share the comforts of the luxurious style in which we now live; but if she quits for a humbler position, she must accept its trials and its troubles, for no aid must she or her husband expect from me. One moment, Mr. Vivian,” he exclaimed, as Hal was about eagerly to offer some observation--“one moment more. I am informed your uncle’s son has returned from abroad, and has taken possession of everything--no will having been found--to the utter