g bad is sure to turn up from it."

"There might have been a settlement executed after the marriage,"
observed Mr. Carlyle, for the earl had stopped, and seemed lost in
thought.

"I know there might; but there was not. My wife had possessed no
fortune; I was already deep in my career of extravagance, and neither
of us thought of making provision for our future children; or, if we
thought of it, we did not do it. There is an old saying, Mr. Carlyle,
that what may be done at any time is never done."

Mr. Carlyle bowed.

"So my child is portionless," resumed the earl, with a suppressed sigh.
"The thought that it may be an embarrassing thing for her, were I to die
before she is settled in life, crosses my mind when I am in a serious
mood. That she will marry well, there is little doubt, for she possesses
beauty in a rare degree, and has been reared as an English girl should
be, not to frivolity and foppery. She was trained by her mother, who
save for the mad act she was persuaded into by me, was all goodness and
refinement, for the first twelve years of her life, and since then by
an admirable governess. No fear that she will be decamping to Gretna
Green."

"She was a very lovely child," observed the lawyer; "I remember that."

"Ay; you have seen her at East Lynne, in her mother's lifetime. But,
to return to business. If you become the purchaser of the East Lynne
estate, Mr. Carlyle, it must be under the rose. The money that it
brings, after paying off the mortgage, I must have, as I tell you, for
my private use; and you know I should not be able to touch a farthing of
it if the confounded public got an inkling of the transfer. In the eyes
of the world, the proprietor of East Lynne must be Lord Mount Severn--at
least for some little time afterwards. Perhaps you will not object to
that."

Mr. Carlyle considered before replying; and then the conversation was
resumed, when it was decided that he should see Warburton and Ware the
first thing in the morning, and confer with them. It was growing late
when he rose to leave.

"Stay and dine with me," said the earl.

Mr. Carlyle hesitated, and looked down at his dress--a plain,
gentlemanly, morning attire, but certainly not a dinner costume for a
peer's table.

"Oh, that's nothing," said the earl; "we shall be quite alone, except my
daughter. Mrs. Vane, of Castle Marling, is staying with us. She came
up to present my child at the last drawing-room, but I think I heard