no great affluence in its train, but bringing enough
to support a decent appearance for the rest of my life, and to induce
cousins to be civil, and gossips to say, "I wonder whom old Croft will
make his heir? He must have picked up something, and I should not be
surprised if it prove more than folk think of."

My first impulse when I returned home was to rush to the house of my
benefactor, the only man who had in my distress interested himself in my
behalf. He was a snuff-taker, and it had been the pride of my heart to
save the IPSA CORPORA of the first score of guineas I could hoard,
and to have them converted into as tasteful a snuff-box as Rundell and
Bridge could devise. This I had thrust for security into the breast of
my waistcoat, while, impatient to transfer it to the person for whom it
was destined, I hastened to his house in Brown Square. When the front of
the house became visible a feeling of alarm checked me. I had been long
absent from Scotland; my friend was some years older than I; he might
have been called to the congregation of the just. I paused, and gazed
on the house as if I had hoped to form some conjecture from the outward
appearance concerning the state of the family within. I know not how
it was, but the lower windows being all closed, and no one stirring, my
sinister forebodings were rather strengthened. I regretted now that I
had not made inquiry before I left the inn where I alighted from the
mail-coach. But it was too late; so I hurried on, eager to know the best
or the worst which I could learn.

The brass-plate bearing my friend's name and designation was still on
the door, and when it was opened the old domestic appeared a good deal
older, I thought, than he ought naturally to have looked, considering
the period of my absence. "Is Mr. Sommerville at home?" said I, pressing
forward.

"Yes, sir," said John, placing himself in opposition to my entrance, "he
is at home, but--"

"But he is not in," said I. "I remember your phrase of old, John. Come,
I will step into his room, and leave a line for him."

John was obviously embarrassed by my familiarity. I was some one, he
saw, whom he ought to recollect. At the same time it was evident he
remembered nothing about me.

"Ay, sir, my master is in, and in his own room, but--"

I would not hear him out, but passed before him towards the well-known
apartment. A young lady came out of the room a little disturbed, as it
seemed, and said, "John,