n!"

Hanserl stared from father to daughter, and back again, without
speaking; while Nelly, blushing deeply, held down her head, without a
word.

"His letter to us was dry enough. But what matter for that? He never
wrote a line,--maybe, did n't speak a word of English for upwards of
forty years. You can't expect a man to have the 'elegant correspondent'
at his fingers' ends after that space of time. But the heart!--that's
the main point, Hans. The heart is in the right place. Read that bit
over again, Nelly; I forget the words he said."

"Oh, no, papa. Hans has Just beard it all, from beginning to end; and
you know we have so much to do. Here's Lady Hester's note, and here's
one from the Prince, still unopened."

"Ay, to be sure. I 'm certain you 'll excuse me, Hans," said Dalton,
putting on his spectacles, while he assumed a manner of condescending
urbanity very puzzling to the poor dwarf. "Why, Nelly dear, this is
French. Give me that note of Lady Hester's, and do you take this. Oh,
by my conscience, I 'm no better off now! The devil such writing as this
ever I seen! It's all 'm's' and 'w's' every bit of it You'll keep them
both for the evening, my dear. Hans will dine with us, and I 'll go out
to look for a bit of fish, and see if I can find another pleasant fellow
to round off the table with us. God be with old Kilmurray M'Mahon, where
I could have had twenty as easy as two, and each of them a good warrant
for four bottles, besides! Is n't it a droll world?" muttered he, as he
took down his hat and descended the stairs. "A good dinner, and only a
cripple for company! Faix! I 'm like the chap in the Bible, that had
to ask the beggars and the blaguards when he could n't get better." And
with this very wise reflection, Peter Dalton hummed a Jig to himself as
he took his way to the fish-market.

CHAPTER V. A HAPPY DAY FOR PETER DALTON

A youthful heir never experienced a more glorious burst of delight on
the morning of his twenty-first birthday, than did Peter Dalton feel
as he sauntered down the principal street of Baden. It was with a
step almost elastic, and his head high, that he went along; not humbly
returning the "Good-day" of the bowing shopkeeper, but condescendingly
calling his worthy creditors--for such nearly all of them were--by their
Christian names, he gave them to believe that he was still, as ever,
their kind and generous patron.

There was scarcely a shop or a stall he did not linger besi