gh, even to the banker's shrewd eyes;
but, nevertheless, it proved as delusive and destructive as any that
ever led a less worldly man astray. The fair-seeming bubble burst, and
the rich man of one day found himself on the morrow virtually reduced to
beggary. All he had had it in his power to risk was gone, and
liabilities remained to the extent of twice as much. The crash came, the
bank stopped payment, and the unhappy man was stricken to the dust. He
never lifted up his head again. The shrewd man of the world utterly
succumbed beneath this blow of fate; it killed him. Old Mr. Gray died of
that supposed disease, a broken heart,--leaving a legacy of ruin, or
the alternative of disgrace, to his heir.

The reins of government thus fell into Everett's hands. "The poor Grays!
it's all over with them!" said the pitying world. And, indeed, the way
in which the young man proceeded to arrange his father's affairs savored
no less of the Visionary than had every action of his life theretofore.
Captain Gray, who hastened home from his gay quarters in Dublin, on the
disastrous news reaching him, found his brother already deeply engaged
with lawyers, bills, and deeds.

"You know, Richard, there is but one thing to be done," he said, in his
usual simple, earnest way; "we must cut off the entail, and sell the
property to pay my father's debts. It is a hard thing to do,--to part
with the old place; but it would be worse, bitterer pain and crueler
shame, to hold it, with the money that, whatever the worldly code of
morality may say, is not _ours_. There must be no widows and orphans
reduced to poverty through us. Thank God, there will be enough produced
by the sale of the estate to clear off every liability,--to the last
shilling. You feel with me in this matter?" he went on, confidently
appealing to his brother; yet with a certain inflection of anxiety in
his voice. It would have wounded Everett cruelly, had he been
misunderstood or rebuffed in this. "You have your commission, and Uncle
Everett's legacy, and the reversion of my mother's fortune, which will
not be touched. This act of justice, therefore, can injure no one."

"Except yourself,--yourself, old fellow," said Richard, moved, in spite
of his light nature. He grasped his brother's hand. "It's a noble thing
to do; but have you considered how it will affect your future? You, with
neither fortune nor profession,--how do you propose to live? And your
marriage,--the Beauchamps wi