, how
could you ever think of uniting yourself to a Catholic, unless she was
amazingly rich? You ought to be so very Protestant, coming of such a
Protestant family as you do. Let us be moral, Ned, or we are nothing.
Even if one could set that objection aside, which is impossible, we come
to another which is quite conclusive. The very idea of marrying a girl
whose father was killed, like meat! Good God, Ned, how disagreeable!
Consider the impossibility of having any respect for your father-in-law
under such unpleasant circumstances--think of his having been "viewed"
by jurors, and "sat upon" by coroners, and of his very doubtful position
in the family ever afterwards. It seems to me such an indelicate sort
of thing that I really think the girl ought to have been put to death by
the state to prevent its happening. But I tease you perhaps. You would
rather be alone? My dear Ned, most willingly. God bless you. I shall
be going out presently, but we shall meet to-night, or if not to-night,
certainly to-morrow. Take care of yourself in the mean time, for both
our sakes. You are a person of great consequence to me, Ned--of vast
consequence indeed. God bless you!'

With these words, the father, who had been arranging his cravat in
the glass, while he uttered them in a disconnected careless manner,
withdrew, humming a tune as he went. The son, who had appeared so lost
in thought as not to hear or understand them, remained quite still and
silent. After the lapse of half an hour or so, the elder Chester, gaily
dressed, went out. The younger still sat with his head resting on his
hands, in what appeared to be a kind of stupor.

Chapter 16

A series of pictures representing the streets of London in the night,
even at the comparatively recent date of this tale, would present to the
eye something so very different in character from the reality which is
witnessed in these times, that it would be difficult for the beholder to
recognise his most familiar walks in the altered aspect of little more
than half a century ago.

They were, one and all, from the broadest and best to the narrowest and
least frequented, very dark. The oil and cotton lamps, though regularly
trimmed twice or thrice in the long winter nights, burnt feebly at the
best; and at a late hour, when they were unassisted by the lamps and
candles in the shops, cast but a narrow track of doubtful light upon the
footway, leaving the projecting doors and house-fronts i