great confidence in his own diplomatic resources.

XV. HANDICAP LODGE

Lord Ballindine left Grey Abbey, and rode homewards, towards Handicap
Lodge, in a melancholy and speculative mood. His first thoughts were
all of Harry Wyndham. Frank, as the accepted suitor of his sister, had
known him well and intimately, and had liked him much; and the poor
young fellow had been much attached to him. He was greatly shocked to
hear of his death. It was not yet a month since he had seen him shining
in all the new-blown splendour of his cavalry regimentals, and Lord
Ballindine was unfeignedly grieved to think how short a time the lad
had lived to enjoy them. His thoughts, then, naturally turned to
his own position, and the declaration which Lord Cashel had made to
him respecting himself. Could it be absolutely true that Fanny had
determined to give him up altogether?--After all her willing vows, and
assurances of unalterable affection, could she be so cold as to content
herself with sending him a formal message, by her uncle, that she
did not wish to see him again? Frank argued with himself that it was
impossible; he was sure he knew her too well. But still, Lord Cashel
would hardly tell him a downright lie, and he had distinctly stated
that the rejection came from Miss Wyndham herself.

Then, he began to feel indignant, and spurred his horse, and rode a
little faster, and made a few resolutions as to upholding his own
dignity. He would run after neither Lord Cashel nor his niece; he would
not even ask her to change her mind, since she had been able to bring
herself to such a determination as that expressed to him. But he would
insist on seeing her; she could not refuse that to him, after what had
passed between them, and he would then tell her what he thought of her,
and leave her for ever. But no; he would do nothing to vex her, as long
as she was grieving for her brother. Poor Harry!--she loved him so
dearly! Perhaps, after all, his sudden rejection was, in some manner,
occasioned by this sad event, and would be revoked as her sorrow grew
less with time. And then, for the first time, the idea shot across his
mind, of the wealth Fanny must inherit by her brother's death.

It certainly had a considerable effect on him, for he breathed slow
awhile, and was some little time before he could entirely realise the
conception that Fanny was now the undoubted owner of a large fortune.
"That is it," thought he to himself, at las