oted,
vitiates the will as to one-half the bequest; the law of 1848 does away
with the will altogether. Practically speaking, your son-in-law might
just as well have died intestate. Though, between ourselves, if Mr.
Varick had not been ignorant of these laws, and had not, in consequence
of his ignorance, made a disposition of certain private documents the
contents of which are easily guessed, your grandson would have merely a
_prima facie_ right to have the will set aside; for, if you remember,
these laws were passed only to provide for the possible interests of a
surviving husband, wife, or _child_."

He emphasized the last word, and, as his meaning grew clear to Mr. Van
Norden, that gentleman got very red in the face. He rang the bell.

"Thank you, sir," he said. "I shall be indebted if you will send me your
account. And I shall be particularly indebted if you will send it at
your very earliest convenience. Henry, get this--this--get this
gentleman his hat and see him to the street."

Unfortunately for those that practise, there are a great many more
lawyers in New York than one. And before the last will and testament of
Erastus Varick came up for probate, Mr. Van Norden experienced slight
difficulty in retaining another attorney to defend Tristrem's interests.
The matter, of course, was set down for a hearing, and came up on the
calendar three months later.

Of the result of that hearing the reader has been already informed, and
then it was that Tristrem was taxed with old-world folly.

X.

In years gone by it had been Mr. Van Norden's custom to pass the heated
term at Rockaway. But when Rockaway became a popular resort, Mr. Van
Norden, like the sensible man that he was, discovered that his own house
was more comfortable than a crowded hotel. This particular summer,
therefore, he passed as usual in New York, and Tristrem, who had moved
to his house, kept him company. June was not altogether disagreeable,
but in July the city was visited by a heat at once insistent and
enervating. In August it was cooler, as our Augusts are apt to be; yet
the air was lifeless, and New York was not a nosegay. During these
months Tristrem was as lifeless as the air. In his first need of
sympathy he had gone to the irascible and kind-hearted old gentleman and
told him of the breaking of the engagement, and, he might have added, of
his heart, though in the telling he sought, with a lover's fealty, to
palliate the grievousne