proved almost too much for the old gentleman, whose
eyes had already begun to twinkle.

"Ay, young man, I am Tom Donnithorne, your uncle, the vile, old,
smuggling, brandy-loving rascal, who met his respectful nephew on the
road to St. Just"--at this point Rose suddenly pressed her hand over her
mouth, darted to her own apartment in a distant corner of the house, and
there, seated on her little bed, went into what is not inaptly styled
fits of laughter--"and who now," continued the old gentleman, relaxing
into a genial smile, and grasping his nephew's hand, "welcomes Oliver
Trembath to his house, with all his heart and soul; there, who will say
after that, that old Donnithorne does not know how to return good for
evil?"

"But, my dear uncle," began Oliver, "allow me to explain--"

"Now, now, look at that--kept me hours too late for supper already, and
he's going to take up more time with explanations," cried the old
gentleman, flinging himself on the chair from which Oliver had risen,
and wiping his bald pate with a red silk handkerchief. "What can you
explain, boy, except that you met an angry old fellow in a lane who
called your uncle such hard names that you couldn't help giving him a
bit of your mind--there, there, sit down, sit down.--Hallo!" he shouted,
starting up impulsively and thrusting his head into the passage, "Rose,
Rose, I say, where are you?--hallo!"

"Coming, uncle--I'm here."

The words came back like an echo, and in another minute Rose appeared
with a much-flushed countenance.

"Come along, lass, let's have supper without delay. Where is aunty?
Rout her out, and tell that jade of a cook that if she don't dish up in
five minutes I'll--I'll--. Well, Oliver, talking of explanations, how
comes it that you are so late?"

"Because I took the wrong road after leaving you in the lane," replied
the youth, with a significant glance at his uncle, whose eyes were at
the moment fixed gravely on the ground.

"The wrong road--eh?" said Mr Donnithorne, looking up with a sly
glance, and then laughing. "Well, well, it was only _quid pro quo_,
boy; you put a good deal of unnecessary earth and stones over my head,
so I thought it was but fair that I should put a good deal more of the
same under your feet, besides giving you the advantage of seeing the
Land's End, which, of course, every youth of intelligence must take a
deep interest in beholding. But, sure, a walk thither, and thence to
St. Just, could no