as it is my wish to recover at least, if not to improve, my former acquaintance with that language.' In his letters to Wakefield we have Fox's views on the great writers of all ages, especially Greek and Latin. Homer was his favourite, but he thought Virgil unapproachable in pathos. Alluding to Evander's speech in the fifth Eneid, on parting with his son, he speaks of it as beyond anything. The passage is nature itself. And then the tenderness in turning towards Pallas: Dum te care puer, &c. In short, it has always appeared to me divine. On the other hand, I am sorry and surprised that you should omit the fourth book. All that part of Dido's speech following, Num fletu ingemuit nostro, is surely of the highest style of excellence.' These lines were written on his birthday, January 1799. On the same day he thus addressed his wife : 'Of years I have now half a century pass'd,

And none of the fifty so bless'd as the last.

How it happens my troubles thus daily should cease,
And my happiness thus with my years should increase,
This defiance of Nature's more general laws

You alone can explain, who alone are the cause.'

Twenty years before this, when he had been only recently returned. to Parliament, he wrote to Richard Fitzpatrick, his cousin, in this strain, and the passage has the merit of being faithfully autobiographical: I think I have given you enough of politics, considering I have nothing but reports and conjectures. With respect to my own share, I can only say that people flatter me that I continue to gain rather than lose credit as an orator; and I am so convinced that this is all that I shall ever gain (unless I choose to become the meanest of men), that I never think of any other ambition. . . . Great reputation, I think, I may acquire and keep; great situation I never can acquire, nor, if acquired, keep without making sacrifices that I never will make. If I am wrong and more sanguine people right, tant mieux, and I shall be as happy as they can be; but if I am right, I am sure I shall be the happier for having made up my mind to my situation.' Fox's life was prolonged seven years after this time; and it was not at St. Anne's Hill that it passed away, but at the Duke of Devonshire's villa, at Chiswick. The last words which he uttered were: I die happy,' and Liz' (the name by which he always called his wife). He expired without a groan, and with a serene and placid countenance, 'which seemed,' says Lord Holland, even after death to represent the benevolent spirit which had animated it.' Twenty-one years later the spirit of George Canning passed away in the same house and in the same room-a small low chamber, once a kind of nursery, dark, and opening into the wing of a building which gives it the appearance of looking into a courtyard. Fox on earth had found a Tusculum, and Canning had not.

T. H. S. ESCOTT.

HIS SECOND INHERITANCE

BY FREDERICK TALBOT, AUTHOR OF 'LOTTIE'S FORTUNE,' 'THE WINNING

HAZARD,' ETC.

CHAPTER XXIV. THE WORTH OF A SON.

MRS. MARTIN having retreated to the interior of the cottage, where she was out of sight of the windows, fell a trembling all over, and knew not what to do. She was afraid of her brother, knowing the violence of his temper when roused by opposition or defeat. She was afraid also of her own too complete success, and did not know how to lay the spirit she had raised. She half hoped that she had escaped recognition, and yet she had caught sight of a gleam in her brother's eyes that made the hope a futile one. What should she do ? Fasten the door against him, and make her escape through the window? Too late; a hand was already on the lock, and the door was pushed heavily open.

Robert,' she faltered, as Petworth entered, pale with rage.

He caught her by the elbow and pushed her before him into the little kitchen, which was lighted from the roof, and had only the one entrance. Then he closed the door and put his back against it. 'Now, woman,' he cried, what do you mean by this foolery? Why do you dog me thus ? Do you think to make a market of me, and squeeze me as you please? By Heaven, you're mistaken!'

'Indeed you are wrong, Robert. It is a complete accident my being here,' she replied. I left Abbotstoke when you told me, and I have come over to this place on a little business of my own.'

'Then what is this comedy that you have arranged between this young fool and yourself?'

'There is no comedy, Robert. There is the finger of Providence in it. O, doesn't it come home to you, brother, whose boy it is who has been brought here so wonderfully? I only guessed it, dreamt it, thought it impossible; but here is confirmation sure as Holy Writ.'

'Play-acting again,' snarled Petworth. Now, in a word, what brings you here; and what have you had to do with this young Wilford ?'

'Twenty years ago, Robert, when I was abroad, I lived here for three years nearly; and that young man was a babe in my care.' 'It is a lie,' said Petworth; he was with his mother in Italy.' 'Not that boy,' said Mrs. Martin. He is no son of the Squire's.

Whose son think you? Is there no feeling warms in your heart? He is your own!'

'Lie upon lie!' screamed Petworth.

'When you sold your wife for so much money down, my noblehearted brother, did you ever think of troubling your calculating head of what became of her afterwards ?'

'I know all about it,' said Petworth; the date of her death, place, and everything.'

'Yes; but you did not concern yourself about the child she left behind a boy. Yours, my good brother.'

Spare your sneers, you creature,' cried Petworth, or by Heaven I'll not be answerable for what I do!'

'Yes, you would murder me if you could, I daresay,' cried Mrs. Martin, now thoroughly at bay; but that would profit you nothing.

The story would not die with me.

Other people know it. I have a

husband now, a protector; he knows it, and-'

'And is he here ?' asked Petworth in a grim whisper.

'Close at hand,' said Mrs. Martin boldly; within call.'

'O,' said Petworth, and was silent for a moment, his nether lip working convulsively. Now explain to me how this child— of mine as you say-came to be the heir of Wilfordhurst.' He was cooler now, and seemed to have conquered his gust of passion.

'He was taken away from me suddenly by the Squire himself, when he was bringing his wife home from Italy. The other child was very ill. It must have died on the journey, and this one was substituted.'

'A fine story, indeed,' said Petworth; and yet the expression in his face showed her he believed it. A fine story, rehearsed probably in the seclusion of Bodley-terrace, to give the youth another chance in life-a second inheritance.'

'Robert,' she said, 'do you think that a man with a grain of manly spirit in him would elect to be your son for all the gold of the Indies ?'

me too far.

'Very fine, very fine,' growled Petworth; but you may goad Well, now that you have got up this fine story, what do you expect to sell it for? Neither you nor he, ma'am, will ever profit a penny if you prove it before all the courts in Christendom. You see that, I fancy. Well, what will you take to be silent for

ever ?'

'How much did you have for giving up your wife, Robert ?' asked his sister. You will surely pay as much for getting rid of a

son.'

'You don't value your personal safety very highly when you talk like that,' said Petworth. But never mind that.'

'Yes, you are brave enough to strike a woman. cried Mrs. Martin.

Strike me!'

'I could have killed you just now,' rejoined Petworth; but I have thought better of it. I should be sorry to risk my neck for such a creature as you. This is a matter of business, I see. Let us discuss it in that spirit. Do you wish your confederate to be present?'

'Call him in, if you please,' replied Mrs. Martin defiantly.

'Better not perhaps, eh ?' said Petworth coolly. The scene might prove too affecting. Stay a moment, I'll get rid of him.' Petworth opened the door and went out. Mrs. Martin, with a sigh of relief, found herself at liberty.

'I've found an old acquaintance here, Wilford,' said Petworth with a smile, meant to be significant, whom I want to have a little talk with. I'll join you down at the hotel directly, and we'll go on board together.'

'All right,' said Wilford. 'Of course the voice was a coincidence. I've been asking the people here, and I find they've only been here a few years. Don't be long;' and he went off, strolling along the edge of the cliff, whistling carelessly, till he came to the footpath leading down to the town, which he descended.

As soon as he was out of sight, Mrs. Martin came out and locked the door of the pavilion. I am not the tenant of this house, Robert,' she said, 'and I think we had better have the rest of our talk in some more convenient place.'

With all my heart,' said Petworth. We'll discuss the matter as we walk down to the town, if you are going that way. The thing lies in a nutshell. You have a secret you think is damaging to my interests. I am-foolishly perhaps-willing to pay a trifle rather than it should be divulged. Now what's your price?'

A thousand pounds, Robert.'

Too much. It is not worth it. No; I'll rather pay you an annuity. Fifty pounds a year for your life.'

The fact is, my husband-'

O, you have come together again after all. word, I think it was the best thing you could do. here somewhere, is he not?'

'No, he's in England. I thought it better he should be within call just now, Robert,' said Mrs. Martin significantly. Well, Martin has a legacy of a thousand pounds in Mr. Arthur Wilford's will. Now it seems that he is likely to lose that, because young Westley is to have everything.'

'O, they've found that out, then, have they?' said Petworth. And so, instead of the thousand pounds coming to us, it will go to you.'

Ah, I see,' said Petworth; 'that's the secret spring, then, which

has been working against me. Well, perhaps that's fair enough. You want me to guarantee your getting the thousand pounds?' Mrs. Martin made a gesture of assent.

'Very well; I'll do it. I daresay it will all come out of my pocket, but I'll do it. Anything else?'

'Fifty pounds for expenses out of pocket.'

'Very well; I agree to that too.
'Nothing for us.

put a stop to.'

Anything else?'

Of course the wedding with Olivia must be

'Yes; I can see that,' said Petworth slowly. Yes, all that's at an end. Well, I'll give you the fifty pounds now-you've earned it pretty well, I must say-and my lawyer shall see to the rest. You can call at my chambers in a little time, and everything shall be ready. And now farewell, my sweet sister. My boat is on the shore and my bark is on the sea.' And he went away humming to

himself.

He's got a heart like the nether millstone, my brother,' said Mrs. Martin. She watched him as he marched gaily down to the beach, and saw him, after a few moments' delay in launching the boat, quickly borne over the waters to the yacht.

But Petworth, notwithstanding his apparent unconcern, was not a little moved by what he had just heard. He was angry with himself too, and a good deal horrified at his recent outburst of temper. He had felt for the moment like a murderer, and the thought of the abyss that had thus opened out beneath him filled him with secret terror. All the results of a long life of persistent scheming had been for the instant at stake: he had stood with a halter round his neck, and he shuddered at the risk he had run. 'What safety is there for a man,' he said to himself, when a short paroxysm of passion can bring him down to irretrievable misery and disgrace ?' But as to what he had done in bribing his sister to silence he felt no compunction.

A son!' he muttered to himself as he paced the deck. He had sent the boat ashore with Westley's luggage and a letter to be delivered at the hotel they had made their temporary head-quarters, and had given the master orders to make sail as soon as they had got the boat on board again. A son!' he muttered. 'Yes, a son to take one's place, to carry on one's plans, to keep the property together, to be a prop to one's age; that's well enough; but a son that in his heart would despise his father- You think I don't see it,' cried Petworth, shaking his fist towards the shore; but although I rose from nothing, I have as much insight as my betters. Yah! if there is one thing that makes me regret having hushed up this matter, it is that he will come in eventually for some rag of the property. No, I can't swallow it all; there will be something over and above, and he will get it. It would be famous now to claim THIRD SERIES, VOL. VIII. F.S. VOL. XXVIII.

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