d to see the likeness, recognised at once by the heir of
Trevethlan. For while candour and courage distinguished Randolph's
countenance, cunning and meanness lurked in the aspect of Michael
Sinson.

The development of such traits in the peasant might be owing to his
early life. When Margaret Basset sorrowfully obeyed the order which
seemed to make her mistress of Trevethlan Castle, her family conceived
great hopes from her elevation, instead of sympathising in her grief.
Her nephew, Michael, was trained in the habits they fancied most
likely to conciliate the favour of their lord, vulgar obsequiousness
and fawning dissimulation. For some time after Mrs. Trevethlan's
death, he was allowed to hang about the castle, enjoying the benefit
of Polydore's instruction, and encouraged in the idea, that he might
grow to be the confidant and companion of the youthful heir. Those who
thought so, little knew Mr. Trevethlan. Pride hates the sycophancy
which is acceptable to vanity. He was simply disgusted by the offered
homage; and at once perceiving its drift, excluded his wife's
relations from all connexion with his household, and ejected them from
their little farm. They settled upon the neighbouring estates of
Pendarrel, cherishing a natural enmity against their late landlord,
and beholding his ruin with a certain exultation. They also chose to
consider that poor Margaret had been aggrieved by the compulsion in
which they themselves participated, and thus sharpened craft and
malice with the feeling of injury. With such spiteful mind old Maud
Basset came to the funeral, and flung in Randolph's teeth a prophecy,
which had been much recited of late years among the peasantry of the
neighbourhood.

And now Trevethlan Castle re-assumed its usual appearance. One of
Randolph's first cares after the funeral was to warn Jeffrey, the
porter, that all visitors whatsoever who might present themselves at
the gates, were to be informed neither he nor his sister was at home,
and were not to be admitted on any pretence. Archbishop Secker is
reported to have said, that the _first_ person who used this excuse
told a lie. It sorely puzzled old Jeffrey's notions of morality.

"Not at home, Master Randolph," he said; "and are ye and my young lady
to leave us so soon?"

"No, Jeffrey," was the answer; "we are not going away immediately. But
we desire to see no company, and this is the usual mode of saying so."

"Good truth, Master Randolph, 'twill