ough to say, that through Prichard's
mediation I have endeavored to persuade Mr. Dalton that I was
the trustee, under a will, of a small annuity on his life. He has
peremptorily refused to accept it, although, as I am informed, living in
circumstances of great poverty."

"Poor they must be, certainly. The house is wretchedly furnished, and
the girls wear such clothes as I never saw before; not that they are
even the worn and faded finery of better days, but actually the coarse
stuffs such as the peasants wear!"

"So I have heard."

"Not even an edging of cheap lace round their collars; not a bow of
ribbon; not an ornament of the humblest kind about them."

"And both handsome, I am told?"

"The younger, beautiful! the deepest blue eyes in the world, with long
fringed lashes, and the most perfect mouth you can imagine. The elder
very pretty, too, but sad-looking, for she has a fearful lameness, poor
thing! They say it came from a fall off a horse, but I suspect it must
have begun in infancy; one of those dreadful things they call 'spine.'
Like all persons in her condition, she is monstrously clever; carves the
most beautiful little groups in boxwood, and models in clay and plaster.
She is a dear, mild, gentle thing; but I suspect with all that infirmity
of temper that comes of long illness at least, she is seldom in high
spirits like her sister. Kate, the younger girl, is my favorite; a fine,
generous, warm-hearted creature, full of life and animation, and so fond
of me already."

If Sir Stafford did not smile at the undue emphasis laid upon the last
few words, it was not that he had not read their full significance.

"And Mr. Dalton himself, what is he like?"

"Like nothing I ever met before; the oddest mixture of right sentiments
and wrong inferences; of benevolence, cruelty, roughness, gentleness;
the most refined consideration, and the most utter disregard for other
people and their feelings, that ever existed. You never can guess what
will be his sentiments at any moment, or on any subject, except on the
question of family, when his pride almost savors of insanity. I believe,
in his own country, he would be nothing strange nor singular; but out of
it, he is a figure unsuited to any landscape."

"It is hard to say how much of this peculiarity may have come of adverse
fortune," said Sir Stafford, thoughtfully.

"I 'm certain he was always the same; at least, it would be impossible
to imagine him anything di