he family.

The widower himself had no intention of dilating upon it. His wife's
name he never mentioned, and no one could guess, heavily as the blow
was known to have fallen upon him, the seething bitterness that her
loss had left in his soul, nor imagine how different a man he might
have been if that one strong affection of his life had been spared to
soften it.

"Adrian fled from the wedding festivities, as you may remember, for
you were our honoured guest at the time, and greatly displeased at his
absence," he resumed, after a few seconds of darkling reflection.
"None of us knew where he had flown to, for he did not evidently
consider his owl's nest sufficiently remote; but we had his fraternal
blessing to sustain us. And after that he continued to make periodical
disappearances to his retreat, stopping away each time longer and
longer. One fine day he sent workmen to the island with directions to
repair certain rooms in the keep, and he began to transfer thereto
furniture, his books and his organ. A dilapidated little French
prisoner next appeared on the scene (whom my brother had extracted
from the Tower of Liverpool, which was then crammed with such gentry),
and finally we were informed that, with this worthy companion, Sir
Adrian Landale was determined to take up his abode altogether at
Scarthey, undertaking the duties of the recently defunct light-keeper.
So off he went, and there he is still. He has extracted from us a
solemn promise that his privacy is to be absolutely respected, and
that no communications, or, above all, visits are to be made to him.
Occasionally, when we least expect it, he descends upon us from his
tower, upsets all my accounts, makes the most absurd concessions to
the tenants, rides round the estate with his eyes on the ground and
disappears again. _Et voila_, my dear aunt, how we stand."

"Well, nephew," said Miss O'Donoghue, "I am much obliged to you, I am
sure, for putting me _au courant_ of the family affairs. It is all
very sad--very sad and very deplorable; but----"

But Mr. Landale was quite aware that Tanty was not yet convinced to
the desired extent. He therefore here interrupted her to play his last
card--that ace he had up his sleeve, in careful preparation for this
trial of skill with his keen-witted relative, and to the suitable
production of which he had been all along leading.

Rising from his chair with slow, deliberate movement, he proceeded, as
if following his own