“TWO THOUSAND! Two thou--ho, ho, ho!--haw! haw! haw!” roars my lord. “That is, I vow, the best thing I ever heard in my life. My dear creature, he has not a shilling--not a single maravedi, by all the gods and goddesses.” And this exlnt noblemin began laffin louder than ever: a very kind and feeling genlmn he was, as all must confess. There was a paws: and Mrs. Deuceace didn begin cussing and swearing at her husband as he had done at her: she only said, “O Algernon! is this true?” and got up, and went to a chair and wep in quiet. My lord opened the great box. “If you or your lawyers would like to examine Sir George's will, it is quite at your service; you will see here the proviso which I mentioned, that gives the entire fortune to Lady Griffin--Lady Crabs that is: and here, my dear boy, you see the danger of hasty conclusions. Her ladyship only showed you the FIRST PAGE OF THE WILL, of course; she wanted to try you. You thought you made a great stroke in at once proposing to Miss Griffin--do not mind it, my love, he really loves you now very sincerely!--when, in fact, you would have done much better to have read the rest of the will. You were completely bitten, my boy--humbugged, bamboozled--ay, and by your old father, you dog. I told you I would, you know, when you refused to lend me a portion of your Dawkins money. I told you I would; and I DID. I had you the very next day. Let this be a lesson to you, Percy my boy; don't try your luck again against such old hands: look deuced well before you leap: audi alteram partem, my lad, which means, read both sides of the will. I think lunch is ready; but I see you don't smoke. Shall we go in?” “Stop, my lord,” says Mr. Deuceace, very humble: “I shall not share your hospitality--but--but you know my condition; I am penniless--you know the manner in which my wife has been brought up--” “The Honorable Mrs. Deuceace, sir, shall always find a home here, as if nothing had occurred to interrupt the friendship between her dear mother and herself.” “And for me, sir,” says Deuceace, speaking faint, and very slow; “I hope--I trust--I think, my lord, you will not forget me?” “Forget you, sir; certainly not.” “And that you will make some provision--?” “Algernon Deuceace,” says my lord, getting up from the sophy, and looking at him with sich a jolly malignity, as I never see, “I declare, before heaven, that I will not give you a penny!” Hereupon my lord held out his hand to Mrs. Deuceace, and said, “My dear, will you join your mother and me? We shall always, as I said, have a home for you.” “My lord,” said the poar thing, dropping a curtsy, “my home is with HIM!” . . . . . . About three months after, when the season was beginning at Paris, and the autumn leafs was on the ground, my lord, my lady, me and Mortimer, were taking a stroal in the Boddy Balong, the carridge driving on slowly ahead, and us as happy as possbill, admiring the pleasant woods and the goldn sunset.