ie, which opportunity could knit and snap a hundred times
over without doing much wrong to the hearts it so lightly united. Over
Godolphin the attachment itself had no influence, while the effects of
the attachment had an influence so great.

One night, after an absence from town of two or three days Godolphin
returned home from the theatre, and found among the letters waiting his
arrival one from his father. It was edged with black; the seal, too, was
black. Godolphin's heart misgave him: tremblingly he opened it, and read
as follows:

"DEAR PERCY,

"I have news for you, which I do not know whether I should call good or
bad. On the one hand, your cousin, that old oddity, Harry Johnstone,
is dead, and has left you, out of his immense fortune, the poor sum
of twenty thousand pounds. But mark! on condition that you leave the
Guards, and either reside with me, or at least leave London, till
your majority is attained. If you refuse these conditions you lose the
legacy. It is rather strange that this curious character should take
such pains with your morals, and yet not leave _me_ a single shilling.
But justice is out of fashion nowadays; your showy virtues only are
the rage. I beg, if you choose to come down here, that you will get
me twelve yards of house-flannel; I inclose a pattern of the quality.
Snugg, in Oxford Street, near Tottenham Court Road, is my man. It is
certainly a handsome thing in old Johnstone: but so odd to omit me.
How did you get acquainted with him? The twenty thousand pounds
will, however, do much for the poor property. Pray take care of it,
Percy,--pray do.

"I have had a touch of the gout, for the first time. I have been too
luxurious: by proper abstinence, I trust to bring it down. Compliments
to that smooth rogue, Saville.

"Your affectionate, A. G.

"P. S.--Discharged Old Sally for flirting with the butcher's boy:
flirtations of that sort make meat weigh much heavier. Bess is my only
she-helpmate now, besides the old creature who shows the ruins: so
much the better. What an eccentric creature that Johnstone was! I hate
eccentric people."

The letter fell from Percy's hands. And this, then, was the issue of
his single interview with the poor old man! It was events like these,
wayward and strange (events which chequered his whole life), that,
secretly to himself, tinged Godolphin's character with superstition. He
afterwards dealt con amore with fatalities and influences.

You may be sure