evenged on
Hope. _That is the cruel thing_. But don't you trouble about my business,
Lucy, unless," said he, with a sneer, "you can tell me where to find
them, and so save me a lot of money."

"Well, Leonard," said Lucy, "it can't be so very hard to find Hope. You
know where that young man lives that you--that I--"

"Oh, Walter Clifford! Yes, of course I know where _he_ lives. At Clifford
Hall, in Derbyshire."

"Well, Leonard, Hope saved him from prison, and ruined you. That young
man had a good heart. He would not forget such a kindness. He may not
know where Mr. Bartley lives, but surely he will know where Hope is."

"Lucy," said Leonard, "you are not such a fool as you were. It is a
chance, at all events. I'll go down to that neighborhood directly. I'll
have a first-rate disguise, and spy about, and pick up all I can."

"And you will never say anything or do anything to--Oh, Leonard, I'm
a bad wife. I never can be a good one now to anybody. But I'm a good
mother; and I thought God had forgiven me, when he sent me my little
angel. You will never ruin his poor mother, and make her darling
blush for her!"

"Curse me if I do!" said Leonard, betrayed into a moment's warmth. But he
was soon himself again. "There," said he, "I'll leave the little bloke my
inheritance. Perhaps you don't know I'm heir to a large estate in
Westmoreland; no end of land, and half a lake, _and only eleven lives
between the estate and me_. I will leave my 'great expectations' to that
young bloke. What's his Christian name?"

"Augustus."

"And what's his father's name?"

"Jonathan."

Leonard then left all his property, real and personal, and all that
should ever accrue to him, to Augustus Braham, son of Jonathan Braham,
and left Lucy Braham sole executrix and trustee.

Then he hurried into the outer office, signed this document, and got it
witnessed. The clerks proposed to engross it.

"What for?" said he. "This is the strongest form. All in the same
handwriting as the signature; forgery made easy are your engrossed
wills."

He took it in to Mrs. Braham, and read it to her, and gave it her. He
meant it all as a joke; he read it with a sneer. But the mother's heart
over-flowed. She put it in her bosom, and kissed his hand.

"Oh, Leonard," said she, "God bless you! Now I see you mean no ill to me
and mine. _You don't love me enough to be angry with me_. But it all
comes back to _me_. A woman can't forget her first. Now promise me on