word, Mr Newland, I hardly know what to say; but I like to tell
the truth. To say that you have been quite honest, would not be
correct--a rogue, to a certain degree, you have been, but you have been
the rogue of circumstances. I can only say this, that there are greater
rogues than you, whose characters are unblemished in the world--that
most people in your peculiar situation would have been much greater
rogues; and lastly, that rogue or not rogue, I have great pleasure in
taking you by the hand, and will do all I possibly can to serve you--and
that for your own sake. Your search after your parents I consider almost
tantamount to a wild-goose chase; but still, as your happiness depends
upon it, I suppose it must be carried on; but you must allow me time for
reflection. I will consider what may be the most judicious method of
proceeding. Can you dine _tete-a-tete_ with me here on Friday, and we
then will talk over the matter?"

"On Friday, sir; I am afraid that I am engaged to Lady Maelstrom; but
that is of no consequence--I will write an excuse to her ladyship."

"Lady Maelstrom! how very odd that you should bring up her name after
our conversation."

"Why so, my dear sir?"

"Why!" replied Mr Masterton, chuckling; "because--recollect, it is a
secret, Mr Newland--I remember some twenty years ago, when she was a
girl of eighteen, before she married, she had a little _faux pas_, and I
was called in about a settlement, for the maintenance of the child."

"Is it possible, sir?" replied I, anxiously.

"Yes, she was violently attached to a young officer, without money, but
of good family; some say it was a private marriage, others, that he
was--a _rascal_. It was all hushed up, but he was obliged by the
friends, before he left for the West Indies, to sign a deed of
maintenance, and I was the party called in. I never heard any more
about it. The officer's name was Warrender; he died of the yellow
fever, I believe, and after his death she married Lord Maelstrom."

"He is dead, then?" replied I mournfully.

"Well, that cannot affect you, my good fellow. On Friday, then, at six
o'clock precisely. Good afternoon, Mr Newland."

I shook hands with the old gentleman, and returned home, but my brain
whirled with the fear of a confirmation, of that which Mr Masterton had
so carelessly conveyed. Anything like a possibility, immediately was
swelled to a certainty in my imagination, so ardent and heated on the
one subject; and a