"Never mind, Henry," replied his father, taking the reluctant boy by the hand, and drawing him in the opposite direction; "I can't wait for him."

"I assure you he is quite ready, for he told me so half an hour ago-do let me call him, papa;" and he made an ineffective endeavour to snatch his hand from his father's grasp.

"No, no, Albert," returned Mr. Snapson, in a tone that showed he was not to be trifled with. "You must either make up your mind to come without him, or else give up this visit altogether."

Thus admonished, the lad could scarcely do otherwise than proceed; though being, of course, unconscious of his brother's compulsory detention, he cast many impatient glances backward, so long as the house remained in sight, hoping that he would, on discovering their absence, speedily overtake them.

Herbert and his friend were seated in the drawing-room, engaged in earnest confidential discourse, when Mr. Snapson's loud ring resounded through the cottage.

James Gordon, impelled by an unaccountable impulse, stepped forward, and dismissing the maidservant, undertook himself to open the door, and show the visitors upstairs.

Herbert was too well bred to manifest the surprise he really felt at this unexpected visit; and had Mrs. Snapson seen the calmness and self-possession with which he received them, and the unaffected courtesy of his manner, she would have been still more convinced of the justice of the opinion she had expressed regarding him.

Mr. Snapson's own demeanour was not entirely free from embarrassment. He wished, by assuming a cold and indifferent air, to efface the remembrance of the weakness which, in his alarm respecting his favourite son, he unintentionally exhibited on the previous evening; but at the same time he felt bound to advert to the service Herbert had rendered his wife and daughter.

Pray do not again mention the subject," said Herbert, as he began to offer his thanks for the timely aid he afforded them. "I trust they have not suffered from their fright."

"No; they appear quite well this morning," replied Mr. Snapson, with a little unbending of his stern features.

"And your coachman ?" asked Herbert, gently; "I hope he is progressing favourably. "

"Thank you, I believe so," returned the gentleman, not caring to confess that he had omitted to make any inquiries as to the unfortunate man's condition.

"This is, I suppose, the son you were so anxious about?" remarked Herbert, smiling kindly on the lad, as he returned to his father's side, after having talked for a short time with Mr. Hastings, whom he found in a very dull and unsociable humour.

"You are right, sir," returned Mr. Snapson, hastily; "he is here at his own request."

"Yes," interposed Albert, probably thinking it quite proper for him to speak; "I wanted to see you-it was so kind of you to get mamma and Arabella out of the carriage. Henry intended to come, too," he went on in his simple yet old-fashioned manner; "but something must have detained him."

"And who is Henry?" asked Herbert, insensibly attracted by his pale, bright-looking countenance.

"Don't you know?" he answered, regarding him with wondering gravity; "Henry is my brother!"

"Oh, I beg your pardon," said Herbert, scarcely able to maintain his own seriousness.

In appearance, he is something like that gentleman "--pointing to Charles Hastings "only he does not always look so melancholy," said the boy, in a tone of confidence.

Mr. Snapson frowned, and was about to reprove his son for this indiscreet remark, when Mr. Hastings (observing, as he gazed listlessly out of the window, that a carriage had just stopped at the gate, and feeling very unequal to the task of meeting more strangers) rose abruptly from his seat, and silently left the apartment.

"You cannot judge of my friend by his present appearance," said Herbert, in answer to Albert's words; "he is one of the most lively and gay-hearted persons I ever met with, and generally considered a great acquisition in society, because of the uniform vivacity of his manner and the humour and piquancy of his conversation. But". slightly hesitating "the loss of a friend to whom he was strongly attached has unfortunately affected, not only his spirits, but his health."

"Oh, I thought he had perhaps lost his money, he seemed so miserable," returned Albert, with his usual candid simplicity.

"Are there no worse misfortunes than that?" inquired Herbert, more and more astonished at his young visitor's language.

"None that I know of," answered the lad, shaking his head; "I have often heard papa say that money can do nearly everything." "Except purchase happiness!" smilingly suggested Herbert.

"Ah! but the want of it makes people unhappy!" was the shrewd rejoinder.

"I am afraid you will discover that my son has been sadly spoilt," remarked Mr. Snapson, rising to take leave.

But almost unconscious of what he did, he resumed his seat, as Gordon opened the drawing-room door, and announced Sir Edward Stanley !

"I have not an instant to spare," cried the young baronet, springing quickly towards Herbert, and taking his outstretched hand in both his own; "I simply wish to remind you of your promise, and"My promise!" echoed Herbert, doubtfully.

"Ah! Lucy was right!" murmured Sir Edward; "she declared that you would forget-neglect, I believe, is the word she used-to keep it, if I left it to yourself. Did you not," he added, half reproachfully, "engage to dine with us to-day?"

"I had an idea that it hardly amounted to a promise," replied Herbert.

"And so you would have robbed us of the pleasure of your company, but for my pertinacity?"

"Even now you must not expect me, dear Edward," said his friend, earnestly; "I have a visitor

Yes, Gordon told me that I should find Mr. Hastings with you, and I was rejoiced to hear it. I once met Sir George Hastings at the house of your uncle, General Clare, and liked him much."

If you could come and spend the day with us to-morrow," proposed Herbert, "I am sure Charles would greatly enjoy your society."

"We must settle to-day's affairs before we speak of to-morrow," returned Sir Edward, laughing; "do try and persuade Mr. HastingsBut Herbert was firm.

“It would be nothing short of positive cruelty," he said, in a low tone, "for me to insist on his going among strangers in his present state of health."

"Well, let me ask him himself," exclaimed Sir Edward, eagerly; and, as he glanced for the first time around the room, he became conscious of the presence of Mr. Snapson and his son.

Herbert, seeing the look of unexpressed desire in that gentleman's eye, hastened to introduce him to his friend; and Mr. Snapson, evidently gratified at this mark of attention, remained for a few minutes longer, conversing in great good-humour; and, finally bidding them adieu, he returned home, highly pleased with his visit.

The next day Sir Edward passed some hours at the cottage, and on the one succeeding that he induced Charles Hastings to visit him at his own house.

During the short time his afflicted friend continued under his roof, Herbert was unwearied in his efforts to raise him from the depths of darkness and despair into which his brother's misconduct had plunged him. Instead of encouraging him to indulge in gloomy retrospections, or morbidly linger upon the aggravated painfulness of his present position, our hero sought rather to awaken his slumbering faculties of mind and will; so that the nobler parts of his character being brought into play, his future career might be marked by a higher and loftier ambition than any which had yet inspired him.

Few could have undertaken this difficult task with the remotest chance of success; for wisdom and discretion were indispensable no less than patience, sincerity, affection, and tact; and Herbert, notwithstanding the influence he possessed over the impulsive, warmhearted, high-spirited young man, felt at times quite bewildered by the strange contrarieties and intricacies of his erewhile transparent disposition, as well as the obstinate determination he manifested in nourishing his wrongs, and pouring bitter invectives upon their author, and the pettishness and impatient caprice with which he rejected his friend's gentle attempts at consolation.

Still Herbert never once relinquished the object he had in view; and as candour and reason, when conjoined with forbearing tenderness, rarely fail to produce a salutary effect, his labour was not doomed to prove utterly fruitless.

The morning before Mr. Hastings left the cottage, he received a letter from his father, informing him that the vessel by which he intended to proceed to St. Petersburg would sail early the following week, and urging him to return home without delay.

After explaining this part of the letter to Herbert, and expressing his grief at the prospect of their separation, Charles Hastings went on to read a postscript, which had evidently been added in great haste, for the writing was blotted and scarcely legible.

An irrepressible exclamation burst from his parted lips as he glanced at the first few lines, and a deep red flush swept for an instant athwart his pallid countenance, leaving it whiter than before.

The paper dropped from his nerveless grasp; and he sat like one turned to stone, until recalled to his senses by seeing the look of anxious inquiry with which his friend was regarding him.

"My poor, poor Charles," said the latter, softly and pitifully, "what new calamity has overtaken you?"

He started, and a convulsive shiver ran through his frame; but presently he stooped, and, recovering the paper, hastily conveyed it to his pocket.

Then, resting his head upon his hands, he remained for a short time perfectly motionless.

At length, rousing himself, he turned to Herbert; and, smiling faintly, said, in a tremulous voice of emotion,

Forgive me for keeping you in suspense-I fancied my intellect had become suddenly disordered!"

Having thus augmented instead of diminishing Herbert's perplexity and alarm, he paused, and, springing out of his chair, began to pace the floor in visible agitation, his head drooping listlessly over his chest, his brow bent and stern, his lips quivering with intense excitement!

At the expiration of about ten minutes, a notable change was effected in him. He raised his head, as if proudly conscious of having conquered some tempting suggestion, and advancing with a firm step and resolute air to Herbert, he handed him the letter, saying, hurriedly,—

"You will see by this that Mr. and Mrs. Seymour have now returned to Mertonsville; and— but read it for yourself. However painful it may be to you, I think you would prefer knowing the exact truth."

Except by an involuntary contraction of his forehead, Herbert testified no unwonted emotion at the contents of Sir George Hastings' communication. It is true he looked a shade paler than usual, and his hand certainly shook when he returned the letter to his friend; but in other respects he was the same as ever, calm and self-possessed. The words he read were these:

"Since writing the above, my dear son, I have received a very unexpected visit from Mr. Seymour. He seemed extremely anxious to see yourself; but, on my explaining that you were absent (I did not of course consider it necessary to inform him where you are staying), he enjoined me to lose no time in letting you know that immediately on hearing of Edmund's return he had hurried home for the express purpose of offering to adopt and make you his heir!

"I have not time to recapitulate half he said on this subject; but it is evident that he is very much in earnest, and quite prepared to act with the utmost generosity towards you, provided you will agree to add his name to your own.

"He hinted that Mrs. Granville had given him clearly to understand that, in the event of your being recognised as his heir, her daughter's hand would no longer be denied you; for the young lady's feelings are stronger in your favour than she at first supposed.

"I make no comment, not wishing to bias you in a case where your happiness is so much concerned."

CHAPTER XLVIII.

CHARLES HASTINGS GOES TO ST. PETERSBURG.

"Worldliness, and apathy, and pride, leave not many that are worthy :

But one who meriteth esteem need never lack a friend.

To the diligent labour bringeth blessing;

The thought of duty sweeteneth toil, and travail is as pleasure; And time spent in doing hath a comfort that is not for the idle." PROVERBIAL PHILOSOPHY.

THE two friends stood for several seconds, gazing wistfully and inquiringly into each other's eyes.

At length Herbert broke the silence by saying, affectionately, “I am glad indeed to find that Mr. Seymour's choice has fallen upon you."

Mr. Hastings started back, and looked at him in unfeigned amaze

ment.

"Glad!" he replied, in a short, thick voice, "surely you would not advise me to accept this extraordinary offer?

Yes, why not?" said Herbert, earnestly; "I should greatly prefer seeing you acknowledged as his heir than a stranger, or one whose society and disposition would probably be uncongenial to my mother

"Stop!" cried his friend, almost wildly; "for pity's sake, do not drive me to distraction. I have already suffered enough, in struggling against my own selfishness," he went on, in a voice which trembled with emotion; "for I will confess to you that, at first, I scarcely thought I should have been able to withstand the terrible temptation."

"I fear you are going to sacrifice yourself for a mere punctilio, Charles," returned Herbert, gravely; "if so, I warn you that you may at some future time regret not having acceded to this advan tageous proposal."

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Never!" exclaimed the young man, impulsively.

"You must consider everything," pursued Herbert, in the same serious tone. "Don't allow your generous feelings towards myself to influence your decision: remember, you can do me no wrong by slipping into the vacant post."

"No wrong, say you! Why, it would be inflicting on you the cruellest and most shameful injury I can conceive of."

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'You lose sight of one thing, Charles."

"Which?" he inquired, hastily.

"That though you refuse, others will not be so scrupulous. Ask yourself, therefore, whether the reasons in favour of complying with Mr. Seymour's wishes-even as far as I am personally concerned

"Herbert, forbear!" interrupted Mr. Hastings; and his face wore an agonised yet resolute expression; "you can tell me nothing but what I have repeated over and over again to myself; it