to the alleged private marriage, the perfect
loyalty and faith that Catherine had borne to the deceased,--he had
merely observed, "I must do something, I suppose, for that woman; she
very nearly entrapped my poor brother into marrying her; and he would
then, for what I know, have cut Arthur out of the estates. Still, I must
do something for her--eh?"

"Yes, I think so. What was she?-very low?"

"A tradesman's daughter."

"The children should be provided for according to the rank of the
mother; that's the general rule in such cases: and the mother should
have about the same provision she might have looked for if she had
married a tradesman and been left a widow. I dare say she was a very
artful kind of person, and don't deserve anything; but it is always
handsomer, in the eyes of the world, to go by the general rules people
lay down as to money matters."

So spoke Mrs. Beaufort. She concluded her husband had settled the
matter, and never again recurred to it. Indeed, she had never liked the
late Mr. Beaufort, whom she considered mauvais ton.

In the breakfast-room at Mr. Beaufort's, the mother and son were seated;
the former at work, the latter lounging by the window: they were not
alone. In a large elbow-chair sat a middle-aged man, listening, or
appearing to listen, to the prattle of a beautiful little girl--Arthur
Beaufort's sister. This man was not handsome, but there was a certain
elegance in his air, and a certain intelligence in his countenance,
which made his appearance pleasing. He had that kind of eye which is
often seen with red hair--an eye of a reddish hazel, with very long
lashes; the eyebrows were dark, and clearly defined; and the short
hair showed to advantage the contour of a small well-shaped head. His
features were irregular; the complexion had been sanguine, but was
now faded, and a yellow tinge mingled with the red. His face was more
wrinkled, especially round the eyes--which, when he laughed, were
scarcely visible--than is usual even in men ten years older. But his
teeth were still of a dazzling whiteness; nor was there any trace of
decayed health in his countenance. He seemed one who had lived hard;
but who had much yet left in the lamp wherewith to feed the wick. At
the first glance he appeared slight, as he lolled listlessly in his
chair--almost fragile. But, at a nearer examination, you perceived that,
in spite of the small extremities and delicate bones, his frame was
constitutionally st