e first chance of getting me out. His answer to my letter
contained a quotation from Shakespeare on the subject of thankless
children, but no remittance of money. After that, my only course was
to employ a lawyer and be declared a bankrupt. I was most uncivilly
treated, and remanded two or three times. When everything I possessed
had been sold for the benefit of my creditors, I was reprimanded and let
out. It is pleasant to think that, even then, my faith in myself and in
human nature was still not shaken.

About ten days before my liberation, I was thunderstruck at receiving a
visit from my sister's mahogany-colored husband, Mr. Batterbury. When
I was respectably settled at home, this gentleman would not so much as
look at me without a frown; and now, when I was a scamp, in prison, he
mercifully and fraternally came to condole with me on my misfortunes.
A little dexterous questioning disclosed the secret of this prodigious
change in our relations toward each other, and informed me of a family
event which altered my position toward my sister in the most whimsical
manner.

While I was being removed to the bankruptcy court, my uncle in the soap
and candle trade was being removed to the other world. His will took
no notice of my father or my mother; but he left to my sister (always
supposed to be his favorite in the family) a most extraordinary legacy
of possible pin-money, in the shape of a contingent reversion to the
sum of three thousand pounds, payable on the death of Lady Malkinshaw,
provided I survived her.

Whether this document sprang into existence out of any of his involved
money transactions with his mother was more than Mr. Batterbury could
tell. I could ascertain nothing in relation to it, except that the
bequest was accompanied by some cynical remarks, to the effect that the
testator would feel happy if his legacy were instrumental in reviving
the dormant interest of only one member of Doctor Softly's family in the
fortunes of the hopeful young gentleman who had run away from home. My
esteemed uncle evidently felt that he could not in common decency avoid
doing something for his sister's family; and he had done it accordingly
in the most malicious and mischievous manner. This was characteristic of
him; he was just the man, if he had not possessed the document before,
to have had it drawn out on his death-bed for the amiable purpose which
it was now devoted to serve.

Here was a pretty complication! Here w