hen, therefore, Harcourt's letter reached him, proposing that he should
visit Glencore, the project came most opportunely; and that he only
accepted it for a day, was in the spirit of his habitual diplomacy,
since he then gave himself all the power of an immediate departure,
or permitted the option of remaining gracefully, in defiance of all
pre-engage-ments, and all plans to be elsewhere. We have been driven,
for the sake of this small fact, to go a great way round in our history;
but we promise our readers that Sir Horace was one of those people whose
motives are never tracked without a considerable _detour_. The reader
knows now why he was at Glencore,--he already knew how.

The terrible interview with Glencore brought back a second relapse of
greater violence than the first, and it was nigh a fortnight ere he was
pronounced out of danger. It was a strange life that Harcourt and Upton
led in that dreary interval. Guests of one whose life was in utmost
peril, they met in that old gallery each day to talk, in half-whispered
sentences, over the sick man's case, and his chances of recovery.

Harcourt frankly told Upton that the first relapse was the consequence
of a scene between Glencore and himself. Upton made no similar
confession. He reflected deeply, however, over all that had passed, and
came to the conclusion that, in Glencore's present condition, opposition
might prejudice his chance of recovery, but never avail to turn him from
his project. He also set himself to study the boy's character, and found
it, in all respects, the very type of his father's. Great bashfulness,
united to great boldness, timidity, and distrust, were there side by
side with a rash, impetuous nature that would hesitate at nothing in
pursuit of an object. Pride, however, was the great principle of his
being,--the good and evil motive of all that was in him. He had pride
on every subject. His name, his rank, his station, a consciousness of
natural quickness, a sense of aptitude to learn whatever came before
him,--all gave him the same feeling of pride.

"There's a deal of good in that lad," said Harcourt to Upton, one
evening, as the boy had left the room; "I like his strong affection
for his father, and that unbounded faith he seems to have in Glencore's
being better than every one else in the world."

"It is an excellent religion, my dear Harcourt, if it could only last!"
said the diplomat, smiling amiably.

"And why should n't it last?