ady Isabel. "I wrote you word in one of my
letters that he was here. Have you forgotten it?" Yes, it had slipped
from his memory.

"And I am happy that it happened so," said that gentleman, interposing,
"for it has enabled me to attend Lady Isabel in some of her walks. She
is stronger now, but at first she was unfit to venture alone."

"I feel much indebted to you," said Mr. Carlyle, warmly.

The following day was Sunday, and Francis Levison was asked to dine with
them--the first meal he had been invited to in the house. After dinner,
when Lady Isabel left them, he grew confidential over his claret to
Mr. Carlyle, laying open all his intricate affairs and his cargo of
troubles.

"This compulsory exile abroad is becoming intolerable," he concluded;
"and a Paris life plays the very deuce with one. Do you see any chance
of my getting back to England?"

"Not the least," was the candid answer, "unless you can manage to
satisfy or partially satisfy those claims you have been telling me of.
Will not Sir Peter assist you?"

"I believe he would, were the case fairly represented to him; but how
am I to get over to do it? I have written several letters to him
lately, and for some time I got no reply. Then came an epistle from Lady
Levison; not short and sweet, but short and sour. It was to the effect
that Sir Peter was ill, and could not at present be troubled with
business matters."

"He cannot be very ill," remarked Mr. Carlyle; "he passed through West
Lynne, in his open carriage, a week ago."

"He ought to help me," grumbled Captain Levison. "I am his heir, so
long as Lady Levison does not give him one. I do not hear that she has
expectations."

"You should contrive to see him."

"I know I should; but it is not possible under present circumstances.
With these thunder-clouds hanging over me, I dare not set foot in
England, and run the risk to be dropped upon. I can stand a few things,
but I shudder at the bare idea of a prison. Something peculiar in my
idiosyncrasy, I take it, for those who have tried it, say that it's
nothing when you're used to it."

"Some one might see him for you."

"Some one--who? I have quarreled with my lawyers, Sharp & Steel, of
Lincoln's Inn."

"Keen practitioners," put in Mr. Carlyle.

"Too keen for me. I'd send them over the herring-pond if I could. They
have used me shamefully since my uncle's marriage. If ever I do come
into the Levison estates they'll be ready to eat their ears o