this manner; they made him feel that a few thousands
were not sufficient. He had at last a desire at his heart, a family
domestic warm desire; and he began to feel that if he were not
prepared to give up his desire, he must bid high for its fulfilment.

"George," said he, "after all, you and Caroline are the nearest
relatives I have; the nearest and the dearest."

"Caroline is your own child's child, sir."

"She is but a girl; and it would all go to some spendthrift, whose
very name would be different. And, I don't know, but I think I like
you better than her. Look here now. According to my present will,
nine-tenths of my property will go to build a hospital that shall
bear my name. You'll not repeat that to anybody, will you?"

"No, sir; I will not."

"If you'll do as I would have you about this marriage, I'll make a
new will, and you and your children shall have-- I'll let you say
yourself how much you shall have; there--and you shall see the will
yourself before the wedding takes place."

"What can I say to him? what can I say to him?" said George, turning
away his face. "Sir, it is quite impossible. Is not that enough?
Money has nothing to do with it; can have nothing to do with it."

"You don't think I'd deceive you, do you, and make another
will afterwards? It shall be a deed of gift if you like, or a
settlement--to take effect of course after my death." On hearing this
George turned away his face. "You shall have half, George; there, by
G---- you shall have half; settled on you--there--half of it, settled
on you." And then only did the uncle drop his nephew's hand. He
dropped it, and closing his eyes, began to meditate on the tremendous
sacrifice he had made.

There was something terrible in this to young Bertram. He had almost
ceased to think of himself in watching his uncle's struggles. It
was dreadful to see how terribly anxious the old man was, and more
dreadful still to witness the nature of the thoughts which were
running through his mind. He was making lavish tenders of his heaven,
his god, his blessings; he was offering to part with his paradise,
seeing that nature would soon imperatively demand that he should part
with it. But useless as it must soon be to him, he could not bring
himself to believe that it was not still all-powerful with others.

"Mr. Bertram, it is clearly necessary that we should understand each
other," said George, with a voice that he intended should be firm,
but which in