would die of cold and starvation: "How could
he get shelter or food, any more than a common person, if he had no
allowance? Mightn't he, at any rate, come back, and live at Grey
Abbey?--That wouldn't cost his father anything." And then the countess
remembered how she had praised her son to Mrs Ellison, and the bishop's
wife; and she cried worse than ever, and was obliged to be left to
Griffiths and her drops.

This happened on the evening of Lord Kilcullen's departure, and on the
next morning her ladyship did not appear at breakfast. She was weak
and nervous, and had her tea in her own sitting-room. There was no one
sitting at breakfast but the earl, Fanny, and Lady Selina, and they
were all alike, stiff, cold, and silent. The earl felt as if he were
not at home even in his own breakfast-parlour; he felt afraid of his
ward, as though he were conscious that she knew how he had intended
to injure her: and, as soon as he had swallowed his eggs, he muttered
something which was inaudible to both the girls, and retreated to his
private den.

He had not been there long before the servant brought in our friend's
name. "The Rev. George Armstrong", written on a plain card. The parson
had not put the name of his parish, fearing that the earl, knowing
from whence he came, might guess his business, and decline seeing him.
As it was, no difficulty was made, and the parson soon found himself
_tete-a-tete_ with the earl.

"I have taken the liberty of calling on you, Lord Cashel," said Mr
Armstrong, having accepted the offer of a chair, "on a rather delicate
mission."

The earl bowed, and rubbed his hands, and felt more comfortable than he
had done for the last week. He liked delicate missions coming to him,
for he flattered himself that he knew how to receive them in a delicate
manner; he liked, also, displaying his dignity to strangers, for he
felt that strangers stood rather in awe of him: he also felt, though he
did not own it to himself, that his manner was not so effective with
people who had known him some time.

"I may say, a very delicate mission," said the parson; "and one I would
not have undertaken had I not known your lordship's character for
candour and honesty."

Lord Cashel again bowed and rubbed his hands.

"I am, my lord, a friend of Lord Ballindine; and as such I have taken
the liberty of calling on your lordship."

"A friend of Lord Ballindine?" said the earl, arching his eyebrows, and
assuming a look of g