d to him."

"Does father like him?"

"Not much; but Julius is a Sandal, after all, and"--

"After me, the next heir. Exactly. It shall not be my fault, Charley, if
he does not stand a little farther off soon. I can get married too."

"O Harry, if you only would! It is your duty; and there is little Emily
Beverley. She is so beautiful and good, and she adores you, Harry."

"Dear little Emmy. I used to love Emmy a long time ago."

"It would make father so happy, and mother and me too. And the Beverleys
are related to mother,--and isn't mother sweet. Father was saying"--

At that moment the squire entered the room. His face was a little
severe; but the moment his eyes fell upon Charlotte and Harry, every
line of sternness was gone like a flash. Harry's arm was round his
sister's waist, her head against his shoulder; but in a moment he gently
released himself, and went to his father. And in his nineteenth-century
way he said what the erring son of old said, "Father, I have not done
right lately. I am very sorry."

"Say no more, Harry, my lad. There shall be no back reckoning between
you and me. You have been mixed up with a sight of follies, but you can
over-get all that. You take after me in looks. Up-sitting and
down-sitting, you are my son. You come of a good kind; you have a kind
heart and plenty of dint;[Dint, energy.] now, then, make a
fresh start, Harry. Oh, my dear, dear son!" The father's eyes were full
of tears, his face shone with love, and he held the young man's hand in
a clasp which forgave every thing in the past, and promised everything
for the future.

Then Julius and Sophia came in, and there was barely time to introduce
the young men before dinner was served. They disliked each other on
sight; indeed, the dislike was anterior to sight, and may be said to
have commenced when Harry first heard how thoroughly at home Julius had
made himself at Seat-Sandal, and when Julius first saw what a desirable
estate and fine old "seat" Harry's existence deprived him of. And in
half an hour this general aversion began to particularize itself. The
slim, suave youth, with his black eyes and soft speech, and small hands
and feet, seemed to Harry Sandal in every respect an interloper. The
Saxon in this Sandal was lost in the Oriental. The two races were,
indeed, distinctly evident in the two men in many ways, but noticeably
in their eyes: Harry's being large, blue, and wide open; those of
Julius, very black; and i