It sometimes happens that a youthful spendthrift becomes an aged miser, and hoards money in the same extreme fashion as formerly he wasted it. John Kirkstone was a fair example of this species of human chameleon. As his father's heir, he drained the estate of all ready money, and squandered the same in London without regard to economy or even reason. In this riotous life he was encouraged by a former college companion--one Marmaduke Dean--who even went to the extent of borrowing money of Kirkstone, and so became his debtor for a large sum. Dean subsequently married a lady of fortune, and repaid a portion of the money; but either could not, or--as was more probable--would not discharge the whole. On this point Kirkstone, who needed money for his pleasures, quarrelled with his friend, and the pair parted to meet no more for some years. It would have been better for both had they never renewed their youthful friendship. As might be expected, old Squire Kirkstone was by no means pleased with his son, and did not relish leaving his large fortune to one who probably would waste it in a few years. The Hall and its surrounding acres were entailed, and were bound to pass into John Kirkstone's hands; but the old man possessed a large income acquired by speculation, which was at his own disposal. Wrathful at his spendthrift son, he resolved to leave this personal property to his only daughter; and accordingly, when John became Squire on the death of his father, he found that his sister Laura was in possession of a good income, while he had to be content with a dwelling far too large for his means, and several farms whose tenants did not always pay their rents. The shock of this discovery was unpleasant, but salutary. In the first place Kirkstone renounced his London profligacy and associates, and came to live at the Hall; in the second, he insisted that his sister should dwell with him, and pay a handsome yearly sum for the privilege; and in the third, he invited his first cousin, Ellen Gilmar, to be his housekeeper. Laura Kirkstone, who was a weak-bodied and weak-natured girl, readily consented to remain at the Hall, and pay what her brother demanded, and as readily welcomed her cousin Ellen as mistress of the household, a post for which she herself had no great love. Having thus arranged matters, Kirkstone--though not yet forty--became as penurious as formerly he had been wasteful; and in this system of economy was ably assisted by his new housekeeper, a shrewd, cold-hearted skinflint.