oing to leave. Say you will fix a day to meet
them.'

'Every farthing!' pursued Evan, on whom the tidings were beginning to
operate. 'What! debts? my poor father!'

'And a thumping sum, Van. You will open your eyes wider.'

'But it shall be paid, mother,--it shall be paid. Debts? I hate them.
I'd slave night and day to pay them.'

Mrs. Mel spoke in a more positive tense: 'And so will I, Van. Now, go.'

It mattered little to her what sort of effect on his demeanour her
revelation produced, so long as the resolve she sought to bring him to
was nailed in his mind; and she was a woman to knock and knock again,
till it was firmly fixed there. With a strong purpose, and no plans,
there were few who could resist what, in her circle, she willed; not
even a youth who would gaily have marched to the scaffold rather than
stand behind a counter. A purpose wedded to plans may easily suffer
shipwreck; but an unfettered purpose that moulds circumstances as they
arise, masters us, and is terrible. Character melts to it, like metal
in the steady furnace. The projector of plots is but a miserable gambler
and votary of chances. Of a far higher quality is the will that can
subdue itself to wait, and lay no petty traps for opportunity. Poets may
fable of such a will, that it makes the very heavens conform to it; or,
I may add, what is almost equal thereto, one who would be a gentleman,
to consent to be a tailor. The only person who ever held in his course
against Mrs. Mel, was Mel,--her husband; but, with him, she was under
the physical fascination of her youth, and it never left her. In
her heart she barely blamed him. What he did, she took among other
inevitable matters.

The door closed upon Evan, and waiting at the foot, of the stairs a
minute to hear how he was received, Mrs. Mel went to the kitchen and
called the name of Dandy, which brought out an ill-built, low-browed,
small man, in a baggy suit of black, who hopped up to her with a surly
salute. Dandy was a bird Mrs. Mel had herself brought down, and she had
for him something of a sportsman's regard for his victim. Dandy was the
cleaner of boots and runner of errands in the household of Melchisedec,
having originally entered it on a dark night by the cellar. Mrs. Mel,
on that occasion, was sleeping in her dressing-gown, to be ready to give
the gallant night-hawk, her husband, the service he might require on
his return to the nest. Hearing a suspicious noise below, she rose, a