ry was unwilling to
afford him an opportunity. Under these rather awkward circumstances, it
was perhaps fortunate that Ferdinand talked without ceasing, giving his
father an account of all he had seen, done, and heard, and of all the
friends he had made, from the good Duke of-----to that capital fellow,
the guard of the coach.

They were at the park gates: Lady Armine was there to meet them. The
carriage stopped; Ferdinand jumped out and embraced his mother.
She kissed him, and ran forward and extended both her hands to Mr.
Glastonbury. 'Deeds, not words, must show our feelings,' she said, and
the tears glittered in her beautiful eyes; Glastonbury, with a blush,
pressed her hand to his lips. After dinner, during which Ferdinand
recounted all his adventures, Lady Armine invited him, when she rose,
to walk with her in the garden. It was then, with an air of considerable
confusion, clearing his throat, and filling his glass at the same time,
that Sir Ratcliffe said to his remaining guest,

'My dear Glastonbury, you cannot suppose that I believe that the days
of magic have returned. This commission, both Constance and myself
feel, that is, we are certain, that you are at the bottom of it all. The
commission is purchased. I could not expect the Duke, deeply as I feel
his generous kindness, to purchase a commission for my son: I could
not permit it. No! Glastonbury,' and here Sir Ratcliffe became more
animated, '_you_ could not permit it, my honour is safe in your hands?'
Sir Ratcliffe paused for a reply.

'On that score my conscience is clear,' replied Glastonbury.

'It is, then,--it must be then as I suspect,' rejoined Sir Ratcliffe. 'I
am your debtor for this great service.'

'It is easy to count your obligations to me,' said Glastonbury, 'but
mine to you and yours are incalculable.'

'My dear Glastonbury,' said Sir Ratcliffe, pushing his glass away as he
rose from his seat and walked up and down the room, 'I may be proud,
but I have no pride for you, I owe you too much; indeed, my dear friend,
there is nothing that I would not accept from you, were it in your power
to grant what you would desire. It is not pride, my dear Glastonbury;
do not mistake me; it is not pride that prompts this explanation;
but--but--had I your command of language I would explain myself more
readily; but the truth is, I--I--I cannot permit that you should suffer
for us, Glastonbury, I cannot indeed.'

Mr. Glastonbury looked at Sir Ratcliff