n since he came
home?" she said, when she was rising to depart: "but I suppose you
haven't, for they say he won't have anything to do with his relations
now--he won't come near you I have heard. They say he has brought such
a lot of money with him from South America."

At this intelligence every feature of Mrs. Lawson's face brightened
with powerful interest. She inquired where Mr. Lawson stopped, and
was informed that he had arrived at the best hotel in town about three
days previously, and that every one talked of the large fortune he had
made abroad, as he seemed to make no secret of the fact.

A burning eagerness to obtain possession of that money entered Mrs.
Lawson's soul, and she thought every second of time drawn out to the
painful duration of a long hour, while Mrs. Thompson slowly moved her
ample skirts of satin across the drawing-room, and took her departure.
Mrs. Lawson dispatched a messenger immediately for her husband.

Henry Lawson came in, and listened with surprise to the intelligence
of his father's return. He was taking up his hat to proceed to
the hotel in quest of him, when a carriage drove to the door.
Mrs. Lawson's heart palpitated with eagerness--if it should be her
husband's father in his own carriage--how delightful!--that horrible
Mrs. Thompson had not a carriage of her own yet, though she was always
talking of it. They, Mrs. Lawson and her husband, had just been about
setting up a carriage when business failed with them. She ran
briskly down the stairs--for long years she had not flown with such
alertness--rapid visions of gold, of splendor, and triumph seemed to
bear her along, as if she had not been a being of earth.

She was not disappointed, for there, at the open door, stood John
Lawson. He was enveloped in a cloak of fur, the costliness of which
told Mrs. Lawson that it was the purchase of wealth; a servant in
plain livery supported him, for he seemed a complete invalid.

Mrs. Lawson threw her arms around his neck, and embraced him with a
warmth and eagerness which brought a cold and bitter smile over the
white, thin lips of John Lawson. He replied briefly to the welcomings
he had received. He threw aside his cloak, and exhibited the figure
of an exceedingly emaciated and feeble old man, who had all the
appearance of ninety years, though he was little more than sixty; his
face was worn and fleshless to a painful degree; his hair was of the
whitest shade of great age, but his eyes h