y of his father's headstrong qualities."

"Which you most providentially escaped," his Excellency put in.

Grafton bit his lip. "Necessity makes us all careful, sir," said he.

"Necessity does more than that, Mr. Carvel," returned the Governor, who
was something of a wit; "necessity often makes us fools, if we be not
careful. But give me ever a wanton fool rather than him of necessity's
handiwork. And as for the lad," says he, "let him not trouble you. Such
as he, if twisted a little in the growth, come out straight enough in
the end."

I think the Governor little knew what wormwood was this to my uncle.

"'Tis heartily to be hoped, sir," he said, "for his folly has brought
trouble enough behind it to those who have his education and his welfare
in hand, and I make no doubt is at the bottom of my father's illness."

At this injustice I could not but cry out, for all the town knew, and
my grandfather himself best of all, that the trouble from which he
now suffered sprang from his gout. And yet my heart was smitten at
the thought that I might have hastened or aggravated the attack. The
Governor rose. He seized his stick aggressively and looked sharply at
Grafton.

"Nonsense," he exclaimed; "my friend Mr. Carvel is far too wise to be
upset by a boyish prank which deserves no notice save a caning. And
that, my lad," he added lightly, "I dare swear you got with interest."
And he called for a glass of the old Madeira when Scipio came with
the tray, and departed with a polite inquiry after my Aunt Caroline's
health, and a prophecy that Mr. Carvel would soon be taking the air
again.

There had been high doings indeed in Marlboro' Street that miserable
week. My grandfather took to his bed of a Saturday afternoon, and bade
me go down to Mr. Aikman's, the bookseller, and fetch him the latest
books and plays. That night I became so alarmed that I sent Diomedes for
Dr. Leiden, who remained the night through. Sunday was well gone before
the news reached York Street, when my Aunt Caroline came hurrying over
in her chair, and my uncle on foot. They brushed past Scipio at the
door, and were pushing up the long flight when they were stopped on the
landing by Dr. Leiden.

"How is my father, sir?" Grafton cried, "and why was I not informed at
once of his illness? I must see him."

"Your vater can see no one, Mr. Carvel," said the doctor, quietly.

"What," says my uncle, "you dare to refuse me?"

"Not so lout, I bray you," say