ge,
and dressed in the deepest mourning, your grace; and most particular
anxious to see your grace."

"I do not know the boy at all; do not know where he came from, nor what
he wants; but he bears the family name, and looks like Arondelle," mused
the duke, gazing at the card and knitting his brow.

"I will see the young man. Show him up here," at length he said,
abruptly.

The footman bowed and withdrew.

A few moments passed and the footman re-entered and announced:

"Mr. Scott," and withdrew.

The duke wheeled his chair around and looked at the visitor, who stood
just within the door, bowing profoundly.

The newcomer was a youth of about fifteen years of age, tall, slight and
elegant in form; fair, blue-eyed and light-haired in complexion; refined,
graceful and self possessed in manner; and faultlessly dressed in deep
mourning; but! how amazingly like the duke's own son, the young Marquis
of Arondelle.

The duke's short survey of his visitor seemed so satisfactory that he
arose and advanced to meet him, saying kindly:

"You wished particularly to see me, I understand, young gentleman. In
what manner can I serve you?"

The youth bowed again with the deepest deference, and said:

"Thanks, your grace. I bring you a letter of introduction."

"Sit down, young sir, sit down, and give me your letter," said the duke,
pointing to a chair, and resuming his own seat. "Good Heaven, how like
this boy's voice was to the voice of the young Marquis of Arondelle! Who
could he be?" mused the duke, as he sat and waited the issue.

The youth seated himself as directed, and seemed to hesitate, as if
respectfully referring to his host's convenience.

"Your letter of introduction, now, if you please, young sir," said the
duke, at length.

"Thanks; your grace. It's from my mother. She--" Here the boy's voice
faltered and broke down; but he soon, recovered it and resumed: "She
wrote it on her death-bed--on the very day she died. Here it is, your
grace."

The duke took the letter and held it gravely in his fingers while he
gazed upon the orphaned boy with sympathy and compassion in every
lineament of his fine face, saying, slowly and seriously:

"Ah! that is very, very sad. You have lost your mother, my boy; and if I
judge correctly from the circumstance of your coming to me, you have lost
your father also. I hope, however, I am wrong."

"Your grace is right. I have lost my father also. I lost him first, so
long ago tha