ng me so implicitly when I
undertook to do it, and giving me this letter!" And here Mr. Brown
wistfully examined an epistle sealed with black wax, peeping into the
corners, which irritated rather than satisfied his curiosity. "I wonder
what the old gentleman says in it; I suppose he will, of course, give up
the estate and house. Let me see; that long picture gallery, just built,
will, at all events, want furnishing. That would be a famous opportunity
to get rid of the Indian jars, and the sofas, and the great Turkey
carpet. How lucky that I should just have come in time to get the
letter. But let me consider how I shall find out?--an advertisement
in the paper? Ah! that's the plan. 'Algernon Mordaunt, Esq.: something
greatly to his advantage; apply to Mr. Brown, etc.' Ah! that will do
well, very well. The Turkey carpet won't be quite long enough. I wish
I had discovered Mr. Mordaunt's address before, and lent him some money
during the young gentleman's life: it would have seemed more generous.
However, I can offer it now, before I show the letter. Bless me, it's
getting dark. Come, Dobbin, ye-up!" Such were the meditations of the
faithful friend of the late Lady Waddilove, as he hastened to London,
charged with the task of discovering Mordaunt and with the delivery of
the following epistle:--

You are now, sir, the heir to that property which, some years ago,
passed from your hands into mine. My son, for whom alone wealth or I may
say life was valuable to me, is no more. I only, an old, childless man,
stand between you and the estates of Mordaunt. Do not wait for my death
to enjoy them. I cannot live here, where everything reminds me of my
great and irreparable loss. I shall remove next month into another home.
Consider this, then, as once more yours. The house, I believe, you will
not find disimproved by my alterations: the mortgages on the estate have
been paid off; the former rental you will perhaps allow my steward to
account to you for, and after my death the present one will be yours. I
am informed that you are a proud man, and not likely to receive favours.
Be it so, sir! it is no favour you will receive, but justice; there are
circumstances connected with my treaty with your father which have of
late vexed my conscience; and conscience, sir, must be satisfied at any
loss. But we shall meet, perhaps, and talk over the past; at present I
will not enlarge on it. If you have suffered by me, I am sufficiently
punishe