ly,--"because she has known me all
her life!" Nevertheless, the paper which her hand had pressed, and
the letters which her fingers had formed, were placed close to his
heart.

CHAPTER XXVII.

THE MOONBEAM.

Ralph the heir had given his answer, and the thing was settled. He
had abandoned his property for ever, and was to be put into immediate
possession of a large sum of money,--of a sum so large that it would
seem at once to make him a rich man. He knew, however, that if he
should spend this money he would be a pauper for life; and he knew
also how great was his facility for spending. There might, however,
be at least a thousand a year for him and for his heirs after him,
and surely it ought to be easy for him to live upon a thousand a
year.

As he thought of this he tried to make the best of it. He had at
any rate rescued himself out of the hands of Neefit, who had become
intolerable to him. As for Polly, she had refused him twice. Polly
was a very sweet girl, but he could not make it matter of regret to
himself that he should have lost Polly. Had Polly been all alone in
the world she would have been well enough,--but Polly with papa and
mamma Neefit must have been a mistake. It was well for him, at any
rate, that he was out of that trouble. As regarded the Neefits, it
would be simply necessary that he should pay the breeches-maker the
money that he owed them, and go no more either to Conduit Street or
to Hendon.

And then what else should he do,--or leave undone? In what other
direction should he be active or inactive? He was well aware
that hitherto he had utterly wasted his life. Born with glorious
prospects, he had now so dissipated them that there was nothing left
for him but a quiet and very unambitious mode of life. Of means he
had sufficient, if only he could keep that sufficiency. But he knew
himself,--he feared that he knew himself too well to trust himself
to keep that which he had unless he altogether changed his manner of
living. To be a hybrid at the Moonbeam for life,--half hero and half
dupe, among grooms and stable-keepers, was not satisfactory to him.
He could see and could appreciate better things, and could long for
them; but he could not attain to anything better unless he were to
alter altogether his mode of life. Would it not be well for him to
get a wife? He was rid of Polly, who had been an incubus to him, and
now he could choose for himself.

He wrote to his brother Gregory,