ed as a principal in a large banking establishment; but his name was now withdrawn from both those concerns, and ostensibly he had no business to conduct, though it was generally thought that his retirement had been only nominal, and that each year added to the magnitude of his transactions.

Within the last few years the highest circles of English life had been freely opened to Mr. Laneton. His boundless resources were found useful to his aristocratic acquaintance. His check-book was ready on the instant he was satisfied with the nature of the security offered. On his part there was neither hesitation nor haggling. The amount required was a matter of perfect indifference to him. "Business transacted with Mr. Laneton was a perfect pleasure," said heirs-apparent; and there were a few persons of high station who had repented, and had redeemed the errors of their earlier days, who recognised in the prompt assistance he had afforded them the immediate means of their salvation. But whether it was that his facility in lending proved at last ruinous to his debtors, as he was accustomed to deplore, or that there was something in the nature of his dealings which, like the retion of the net-bearer in the

Roman circus, fatally entangled his opponent, whether he presented an armed front or a flying back, it is certain that not many persons were ever able to restore their affairs after availing themselves of Mr. Laneton's assistance. His terms advanced in exact proportion to their wants, though he was never guilty of the vice of usury. He recommended the sacrifice of an estate or two when he saw that circumstances were getting desperate; and when, as he declared, he perceived with sorrow that his assistance could be of no further service, he quietly parted with his securities, and left to others the ungracious office of executions and sales. The profits found their way to his account, but his name was never stained with the odium of assisting in the work of ruin. Nevertheless, some desperate men dared to point to him as the author of their misfortunes; but the opinion of the world was against them. It was justly said that the reckless and extravagant are always glad to accuse others, that their own faults may seem the less glaring; and, so long as Mr. Laneton was always ready to lend on fair terms, without trouble and without extortion, he was not likely to want the companionship of the

greatest and noblest in the land. No one ventured to conjecture the extent of his wealth; but, whatever its amount, he still pursued its aggrandizement as the great aim of his exist

ence.

Such was the man who, with an air of extreme deference, approached the master of the mansion, and, warmly yet respectfully shaking his hand, apologised for his intrusion. at that unseasonable hour.

66

Your visit is a relief to me," said Cavendish; "I had a spare hour on my hands, and I knew not what I should do with it, until I received your note requesting an interview. I try in vain to find amusement in books."

"Yet," said Mr. Laneton, "the world speaks of your literary tastes, and even of your love of romance. The author of

"Stay, sir!" exclaimed Cavendish impatiently, "that theme is worn out. Let me know the purpose of your visit."

"Why, really," Mr. Laneton said, with artful hesitation, "it is of so delicate and embarrassing a nature that I hardly know how to introduce what I have to say. Were this a matter of business I should know how to deal with it, and how to knock it off easily. But I dare say you can understand that I

am not at all conversant with what are called affairs of the heart."

To this exordium Cavendish listened attentively, his hand playing with a trinket on the table at his side. His eyes were downcast, and as his visiter ceased he did not speak. The pause was awkward, though men of the world, to whom conversation is as a game of chess, frequently allow themselves some moments for consideration between the moves. At last he said simply,

Well, sir!"

"The interest," Mr. Laneton said with an affectation of great embarrassment, " you have always appeared to feel in my daughter Una, must be my apology for introducing her name to you. A father's scruples must give way when the peace and happiness of an only child are at stake.".

Cavendish now sat up, and bending on his companion his rapid and brilliant glance, essayed to read in his face the purpose with which he came charged. The man of business owned the superiority of the man of intellect, and veiled his lids before that searching gaze. The contrast between those two men, each a master in his line of life, was remarkable. The dark and haughty face of

Cavendish, seen in the full light, was remarkable for the broad brow, which gave dignity to features naturally commanding. The face was spare, severe, and even contemptuous; but it was illuminated with that glow which genius loves to cast on the temple in which it dwells. The spirit of cold calculation and wary watchfulness sat on the face of the merchant, even while he feigned domestic distress and affectionate solicitude. Their conversation, in spite of the efforts of Mr. Laneton to render it confidential, was guarded, and resembled more a sharp skirmish of arms than a friendly meeting.

"Let us come to the point at once," said Cavendish, as he rested his clasped hands on the table, and still fixed his eye on his companion. "I will not affect indifference to your meaning. Am I to understand that you bear me, from your daughter, a decla

ration of attachment?"

"No," said the other, quickly, "not that. My daughter-I am really embarrassed in speaking plainly on so delicate a subject, though your plan is certainly the best-my daughter, you must be aware, is far too reserved and sensitive to make

cation to me on such a subject.

any communi

But latterly