as he reached the hall the stranger
was entering it. He was a tall, well-built man, with the mingled ease
and stiffness of a soldier in his bearing; his face was handsome, but
somewhat stern, and his voice had that tone which implies the long habit
of command.

"You're a Massy, that I'll swear to," said he, frankly, as he shook
the boy's hand; "the family face in every lineament. And how is your
father?"

"Better; he has had a severe illness."

"So his letter told me. I was up the Rhine when I received it, and
started at once for Ireland."

"He has been very impatient for your coming," said the boy; "he has
talked of nothing else."

"Ay, we are old friends. Glencore and I have been schoolfellows, chums
at college, and messmates in the same regiment," said he, with a slight
touch of sorrow in his tone. "Will he be able to see me now? Is he
confined to bed?"

"No, he will dine with you. I 'm to show you your room, and then bring
you to him."

"That 's better news than I hoped for, boy. By the way, what's your
name?"

"Charles Conyngham."

"To be sure, Charles; how could I have forgotten it! So, Charles, this
is to be my quarters; and a glorious view there is from this window.
What's the mountain yonder?"

"Ben Creggan."

"We must climb that summit some of these days, Charley. I hope you 're a
good walker. You shall be my guide through this wild region here, for I
have a passion for explorings."

And he talked away rapidly, while he made a brief toilet, and refreshed
himself from the fatigues of the road.

"Now, Charley, I am at your orders; let us descend to the drawing-room."

"You 'll find my father there," said the boy, as he stopped short at
the door; and Harcourt, staring at him for a second or two in silence,
turned the handle and entered.

Lord Glencore never turned his head as the other drew nigh, but sat with
his forehead resting on the table, extending his hand only in welcome.

"My poor fellow!" said Harcourt, grasping the thin and wasted
fingers,--"my poor fellow, how glad I am to be with you again!" And he
seated himself at his side as he spoke. "You had a relapse after you
wrote to me?"

Glencore slowly raised his head, and, pushing back a small velvet
skull-cap that he wore, said,--

"You 'd not have known me, George. Eh? see how gray I am! I saw myself
in the glass to-day for the first time, and I really could n't believe
my eyes."

"In another week the change will be just as g