e that I _shall_; but, whatever betide, or wherever I
go, let me assure you that I will continue to love you with unalterable
fidelity. More than this I shall not say, less I could not. You said
that these New Testaments"--pointing to a pile of four or five which lay
on the table--"are meant to be given to poor men. _I_ am a poor man:
will you give me one?"

"Willingly," said Aileen, taking one from the pile.

She handed it to her lover without a single word, but with a tender
anxious look that went straight to his heart, and took up its lodging
there--to abide for ever!

The youth grasped the book and the hand at once, and, stooping, pressed
the latter fervently to his lips.

At that moment Miss Pritty was heard tripping along the passage.

Edgar sprang to intercept her, and closed the door of the boudoir behind
him.

"Why, Edgar, you seem in haste!"

"I am, dear aunt; circumstances require that I should be. Come
down-stairs with me. I have stayed too long already. I am going
abroad, and may not spend more time with you this evening."

"Going abroad!" exclaimed Miss Pritty, in breathless surprise, "where?"

"I don't know. To China, Japan, New Zealand, the North Pole--anywhere.
In fact, I've not quite fixed. Good-bye, dear aunt. Sorry to have seen
so little of you. Good-bye."

He stooped, printed a gentle kiss between Miss Pritty's wondering eyes,
and vanished.

"A most remarkable boy," said the disconcerted lady, resuming her seat
at the tea-table--"so impulsive and volatile. But he's a dear good boy
nevertheless--was so kind to his mother while she was alive, and ran
away from school when quite young--and no wonder, for it was a dreadful
school, where they used to torture the boys,--absolutely tortured them.
The head-master and ushers were tried for it afterwards, I'm told. At
all events; Eddy ran away from it after pulling the master's nose and
kicking the head usher--so it is said, though I cannot believe it, he is
usually so gentle and courteous.--_Do_ have a little more tea. No? A
piece of bun? No? Why, you seem quite flushed, my love. Not unwell, I
trust? No? Well, then, let us proceed to business."

CHAPTER FOUR.

DIVERS MATTERS.

Charles Hazlit, Esquire, was a merchant and a shipowner, a landed
proprietor, a manager of banks, a member of numerous boards and
committees, a guardian of the poor, a volunteer colonel, and a
good-humoured man on the whole, but purse-proud and