“Well, my Lord,” said Forester, gayly, “I accept the augury; and as nothing more nearly concerns a man's life than the fate of those who have shown him friendship, let me inquire after some friends of mine, and some relations of yours,-the Darcys.” “Ah, those poor Darcys!” said Lord Netherby, wiping his eyes, and heaving a very profound sigh, as though to say that the theme was one far too painful to dwell upon, “theirs is a sad story, a very sad story indeed!” “Anything more gloomy than the loss of fortune, my Lord?” asked Forester, with a trembling lip, and a cheek pale as death. Lord Netherby stared to see whether the patient's mind was not beginning to wander. That there could be anything worse than loss of fortune he had yet to learn; assuredly he had never heard of it. Forester repeated his question. “No, no, perhaps not, if you understand by that phrase what I do,” said Lord Netherby, almost pettishly. “If, like me, you take in all the long train of ruin and decay such loss implies,--pecuniary distress, moneyed difficulties, fallen condition in society, inferior association--” “Nay, my Lord, in the present instance, I can venture to answer for it, such consequences have not ensued. You do your relatives scarcely justice to suppose it.” “It is very good and very graceful, both, in you,” said Lord Netherby, with an almost angelic smile, “to say so. Unfortunately, these are not merely speculative opinions on my part. While I make this remark, understand me as by no means imputing any blame to them. What could they do?--that is the question,--what could they do?” “I would rather ask of your Lordship, what have they done? When I know that, I shall be, perhaps, better enabled to reply to your question.” In all likelihood it was more the manner than the substance of this question which made Lord Netherby hesitate how to reply to it, and at last he said,-- “To say in so many words what they have done, is not so easy. It would, perhaps, give better insight into the circumstances were I to say what they have not done.” “Even as you please, my Lord. The negative charge, then,” said Forester, impatiently. “Lord Castlereagh, my Lord!” said a servant, throwing open the door; for he had already received orders to admit him when he called, though, had Forester guessed how inopportune the visit could have proved, he would never have said so. In the very different expressions of Lord Netherby and the sick man's face, it might be seen how differently they welcomed the new arrival. Lord Castlereagh saluted both with a courteous and cordial greeting, and although he could not avoid seeing that he had dropped in somewhat _mal-à-propos_, he resolved rather to shorten the limit of his stay than render it awkward by any expressions of apology. The conversation, therefore, took that easy, careless tone in which each could join with freedom. It was after a brief pause, when none exactly liked to be the first to speak, that Lord Netherby observed,--