stened, for on the chance of his
cousin's acquiescence rested the probability of his advancement in life,
and the means of assisting his brothers and sisters.

But the face of the young lord grew clouded, and though it would seem
that he dared not look up when he spoke, he said, resolutely, "I have no
money to spare for any such purpose."

"Oh, Charles!" exclaimed Mrs. Sidney, "I know that you have hundreds and
thousands of pounds at your disposal; again, again, I warn you that your
sin is great. In the sight of God you are but the steward of this vast
property, and to Him will you have to render an account of its disposal.
My son, my son, while there is time, oh! change this heart of stone;" and
overcome by her bitter feelings she burst into tears.

"My hundreds and thousands of pounds," returned Lord Sereton, without
appearing in the least degree moved, "are wanted to pay for an estate
which is contiguous to my present property, and which I am determined on
having. By joining them together, I shall increase the value of each."

"Is it you, then," exclaimed Mrs. Sidney, with an expression of horror in
her countenance, "is it you then, who have been bidding so cruelly
against the former owner? that good man who, having been compelled from
unforeseen misfortunes to sell his inheritance in early life, has worked
indefatigably for thirty years to win back the house of his fathers, and
preserve the honour of the family. He was your father's friend too."

"What have I to do with friendship that existed before I was born?" said
the unfeeling youth, sulkily; "I _will_ have the estate, I tell you."

"Hush--hush," murmured the mother, and her words seemed almost prophetic,
"it is God that WILLS, not man; and even now I think HE does not will
this cruelty."

"Aunt, let us go," said William, "I am as grateful to you as if your
mission had been successful."

"Let me call _you_ son:" exclaimed Mrs. Sidney, taking William's hand
with affection; "I will no longer own that selfish and cruel child."

And to this pass had the hardening heart, and the growing covetousness of
Charles Sidney brought him: to be disowned by his mother on his one-and-
twentieth birthday, at the moment of his earthly pride, and of his
acquiring princely possessions!

Yet now, even at this eleventh hour, a merciful God might have pardoned
and protected him.

The feasting and attempted merry-making went off heavily. There was no
spirit of love, or