so well how to assume. He believed that when he so
demanded it, the money would be forthcoming so as to satisfy, at any
rate, his present emergencies.

That wretched old man in Westmoreland! If he would but die, there
might yet be a hope remaining of permanent success! Even though
the estate might be entailed so as to give him no more than a
life-interest, still money might be raised on it. His life-interest
in it would be worth ten or twelve years' purchase. He had an idea
that his grandfather had not as yet made any such will when he left
the place in Westmoreland. What a boon it would be if death could be
made to overtake the old man before he did so! On this very night he
walked about the lobbies of the House, thinking of all this. He went
by himself from room to room, roaming along passages, sitting now for
ten minutes in the gallery, and then again for a short space in the
body of the House,--till he would get up and wander again out into
the lobby, impatient of the neighbourhood of Mr Bott. Certainly just
at this time he felt no desire to bring before the House the subject
of the River Embankment.

Nor was Mr Grey much happier when he was left alone, than was his
assailant. To give Vavasor his due, the memory of the affray itself
did not long trouble him much. The success between the combatants had
been nearly equal, and he had, at any rate, spoken his mind freely.
His misery had come from other sources. But the reflection that he
had been concerned in a row was in itself enough to make John Grey
wretched for the time. Such a misfortune had never hitherto befallen
him. In all his dealings with men words had been sufficient, and
generally words of courtesy had sufficed. To have been personally
engaged in a fighting scramble with such a man as George Vavasor was
to him terrible. When ordering that his money might be expended with
the possible object of saving Alice from her cousin, he had never
felt a moment's regret; he had never thought that he was doing more
than circumstances fairly demanded of him. But now he was almost
driven to utter reproach. "Oh, Alice! that this thing should have
come upon me through thy fault!"

When Vavasor was led away down stairs by the tailor, and Grey found
that no more actual fighting would be required of him, he retired
into his bedroom, that he might wash his mouth and free himself from
the stains of the combat. He had heard the front door closed, and
knew that the miscreant