He was scarcely fifty years of age,--a lithe, supple man, with brown, curly hair, and evidently a quiet, luxurious fellow, who liked to have his own way and take things easily. He had never been married, and never would marry, he said, because it would bore him. It would be impossible, he had often said, for any woman to be happy with him; she would be jealous of his pictures and pottery in less than a month. And then the going into society, and fulfilling those duties of property which people talked about, and laying yourself out for being everybody’s friend but your own:--no, he could not marry; he would leave that, he said, to his brother Lionel. It was through this brother Lionel that the Earl Verner called at Barton Hall this second time. Mr. Hammerton had, it appeared, not only invested largely himself in some of the bubble concerns of the day, but he had induced his lordship to divert considerable sums of money into the same channel; and now that his lordship’s steward had large demands upon him for calls, Earl Verner said to himself, “I will go over and see Tallant--pay him a visit of condolence, and kill two birds with one stone.” So his lordship sent in his card, and followed it into Mr. Tallant’s library, where he found the merchant engaged at his desk. “Ah, Mr. Tallant, how do you do?” said his lordship, advancing with opening hand. “I hope your lordship is well?” said Mr. Tallant. “May I offer you a chair?” Earl Verner seated himself, and rubbed his hands familiarly before the fire. “Mine is rather a selfish visit, Tallant,” he said. “I fear you must have thought me an unneighbourly fellow; but, you see, I am fond of quiet, and I rarely pay visits. Perhaps I take too little interest in the county. However, you will believe me when I say that I was grieved to hear of your domestic trouble--deeply grieved; for I knew you had set your heart upon making that young fellow a sort of intellectual Crœsus, and----” Here his lordship hesitated, seeing that the subject was painful to Mr. Tallant. “We will not talk about it, Mr. Tallant, but pray accept my sympathy; and if there is anything I can do for the young fellow--I have some little influence, I am told, with the Government----” “Thank your lordship. Let us act upon your former suggestion, and not talk about it. Richard Tallant is no longer my son.” There was something so calm and determined in the merchant’s manner, that Lord Verner did not attempt to say any more on the subject.