ttlesnake_, eighteen-gun brig. The secretary smiled most graciously,
and told O'Brien in confidence, that he would proceed to the West India
station as soon as his vessel was manned and ready for sea. He inquired
of O'Brien whom he wished as his first lieutenant. O'Brien replied that
he wished for me; but as, in all probability, I should not be of
sufficient standing to be first lieutenant, that the Admiralty might
appoint any other to the duty, provided I joined the ship. The
secretary made a minute of O'Brien's wish, and requested him, if he had
a vacancy to spare as midshipman, to allow him to send one on board; to
which O'Brien willingly acceded, shook hands with him, and O'Brien
quitted the Admiralty to hasten down to us with the pleasing
intelligence.

"And now," said O'Brien, "I have made up my mind how to proceed. I
shall first run down to Plymouth and hoist my pennant; then I shall ask
for a fortnight's leave, and go to Ireland to see how they get on, and
what Father McGrath may be about. So, Peter, let's pass this evening as
happily as we can: for though you and I shall soon meet again, yet it
may be years, or perhaps never, that we three shall sit down on the same
sofa as we do now."

Ellen, who was still nervous from the late death of my mother, looked
down, and I perceived the tears start in her eyes at the remark of
O'Brien, that perhaps we should never meet again. And I did pass a
happy evening: my father dined out, and did not interrupt us. I had a
dear sister on one side of me, and a sincere friend on the other. How
few situations more enviable.

O'Brien left us early the next morning, and, at breakfast time, a letter
was handed to my father. It was from my uncle, coldly communicating to
him that Lord Privilege had died the night before very suddenly, and
informing him that the burial would take place on that day week, and
that the will would be opened immediately after the funeral. My father
handed the letter over to me without saying a word, and sipped his tea
with his tea-spoon. I cannot say that I felt very much on the occasion;
but I did feel, because he had been kind to me at one time: as for my
father's feelings, I could not--or rather I should say, I did not wish
to analyse them. As soon as he had finished his cup of tea, he left the
breakfast-table, and went into his study. I then communicated the
intelligence to my sister Ellen.

"My God!" said she, after a pause, putting her