And the general, having issued his military mandates, wrapped himself in secresy once more; satisfied that both of those troublesome sons were to leave home after the next quarter, and the prize-money at Hancock's. CHAPTER VI. THE CONFIDANTE. BUT Mrs. Tracy had the best reason for believing her intelligence was true, and she could see very little cause for regarding it as dreadful. True, one son would have been enough for this wealthy Indian heiress--but still it was no harm to have two strings to her bow. Julian was her favourite, and should have the girl if she could manage it; but if Emily Warren would not hear of such a husband, why Charles Tracy may far better get her money than any body else. That she possessed great wealth was evident: such jewellery, such Trinchinopoli chains, such a blaze of diamonds _en suite_, such a multitude of armlets, and circlets, and ear-rings, and other oriental finery, had never shone on Devonshire before: at the Eyemouth ball, men worshipped her, radiant in beauty, and gorgeously apparelled. Moreover, money overflowed her purse, her work-box, and her jewel-case: Charles's village school, and many other well-considered charities, rejoiced in the streams of her munificence. The general had given her a banker's book of signed blank checks, and she filled up sums at pleasure: such unbounded confidence had he in her own prudence and her far-off father's liberality. The few hints her husband deigned to give, encouraged Mrs. Tracy to conclude, that she would be a catch for either of her sons; and, as for the girl herself, she had clearly been brought up to order about a multitude of servants, to command the use of splendid equipages, and to spend money with unsparing hand. Accordingly, one day when Julian was alone with his mother, their conversation ran as follows: "Well, Julian dear, and what do you think of Emily Warren?" "Think, mother? why--that she's deuced pretty, and dresses like an empress: but where did the general pick her up, eh?--who is she?" "Why, as to who she is--I know no more than you; she is Emily Warren: but as to the great question of what she is, I know that she is rolling in riches, and would make one of my boys a very good wife." "Oh, as to wife, mother, one isn't going to be fool enough to marry for love now-a-days: things are easier managed hereabouts, than that: but money makes it quite another thing. So, this pretty minx is rich, is she?" "A great heiress, I assure you, Julian." "Bravo, bravo-o! but how to make the girl look sweet upon me, mother? There's that white-livered fellow, Charles--" "Never mind him, boy; do you suppose he would have the heart to make love to such a splendid creature as Miss Warren: fy, Julian, for a faint heart: Charles is well enough as a Sabbath-school teacher, but I hope he will not bear away the palm of a ladye-love from my fine high-spirited Julian." Poor Mrs. Tracy was as flighty and romantic at forty-five as she had been at fifteen.