seems to you an
affliction."

"My dear Lord--"

"I am much older than you, but not old enough for such formal ceremony.
Pray call me L'Estrange."

"Thank you; and I should indeed like to speak to you as a friend.
There is a thought on my mind which haunts me. I dare say it is foolish
enough, but I am sure you will not laugh at me. You heard what Madame di
Negra said to me last night. I have been trifled with and misled, but I
cannot forget so soon how dear to me that woman was. I am not going to
bore you with such nonsense; but from what I can understand, her
brother is likely to lose all his fortune; and, even if not, he is a sad
scoundrel. I cannot bear the thought that she should be so dependent
on him, that she may come to want. After all, there must be good in
her,--good in her to refuse my hand if she did not love me. A mercenary
woman so circumstanced would not have done that."

"You are quite right. But do not torment yourself with such generous
fears. Madame di Negra shall not come to want, shall not be dependent on
her infamous brother. The first act of the Duke of Serrano, on regaining
his estates, will be a suitable provision for his kinswoman. I will
answer for this."

"You take a load off my mind. I did mean to ask you to intercede with
Riccabocca,--that is, the duke (it is so hard to think he can be a
duke!)--I, alas! have nothing in my power to bestow upon Madame di
Negra. I may, indeed, sell my commission; but then I have a debt which
I long to pay off, and the sale of the commission would not suffice even
for that; and perhaps my father might be still more angry if I do sell
it. Well, good-by. I shall now go away happy,--that is, comparatively.
One must bear things like--a man!"

"I should like, however, to see you again before you go abroad. I will
call on you. Meanwhile, can you tell me the number of one Baron Levy? He
lives in this street, I know."

"Levy! Oh, have no dealings with him, I advise, I entreat you! He is the
most plausible, dangerous rascal; and, for Heaven's sake! pray be warned
by me, and let nothing entangle you into--a POST-OBIT!"

"Be re-assured, I am more accustomed to lend money than borrow it;
and as to a post-obit, I have a foolish prejudice against such
transactions."

"Don't call it foolish, L'Estrange; I honour you for it. How I wish I
had known you earlier--so few men of the world are like you. Even Randal
Leslie, who is so faultless in most things, and never g