Nelly understood at once that she was looking on her father's grave.

CHAPTER XXXVI.

AN OBJECT IN LIFE.

WHETHER Ralph Pennicuick did or did not exaggerate his own cynicism respecting political life in his talk with Milburn, he was quite in earnest about going into Parliament. The object in life of which he spoke had really become necessary to him, though hitherto he had made it his boast that he was able to get on without any such thing. He had been asked more than once how it was that he contrived to pass his aimless existence with such apparent ease and self-satisfaction, and his answer had always been 'Because I understand myself.' He had studied his own wants (or rather wishes), his tastes, his characteristics, just as a man of science studies the Fauna or the Flora of some particular clime, and had thus acquired a perfect knowledge of himself: if this was not the know thyself' of the philosopher, it was a good practical guide, and had at least made him certain of what he liked, which is a great step in the direction which he considered to be the right one.

He flattered himself, because he was vicious without being actually depraved, that he had in his pleasures hit the golden mean: he did not trouble himself with study, but he read not only those French novels, more numerous than select, which form the chief literary pabulum of men of his stamp (as well as of many others who ought to know better), but also such books as dealt with the thoughtful questions of the time; if these did not do him the benefit their authors (if we are to believe their prefaces) intended, they kept him abreast, and-assisted by his natural cleverness— even ahead, of most minds with which he was brought into contact. It was pleasant to him to hear it said that that fellow Pennicuick, idle as he was, knew as much as any of your reading men,' and there was also some solid advantage to be got out of it. When one goes to Rome, for example, nine-tenths of the enjoyment of the visit is lost without a little scholarship, and to lose enjoyment. annoyed Pennicuick almost as much as to have lost a day pained the tender conscience of Titus. He was a good sportsman, without ever becoming the slave of horse, or dog, or gun, and, in a word, had taken just so much of interest in most things as made. his time pass agreeably wherever he was.

6

But now things had altered with him altogether; small matters could no longer win his mind from what he termed his morbid

thoughts,' but what was in truth remorse and self-reproach. He felt for the first time the want not so much of an object in life as (very literally) a diversion, and he was not the man to long deny himself his desire. Circumstances indeed had made it absolutely necessary that he should obtain it quickly as a relief from worries. of all sorts. Not only was there the central trouble, which he had fondly hoped Nelly's acceptance or rejection of the proffered annuity would set at rest, haunting him day and night with grim persistence, but his relations with Raymond were most annoying. He could certainly not be said to be a devoted father; it had perhaps been part of his admirable scheme of life not to bestow his affections anywhere for fear he should be made to suffer through them; but he had doubtless some vulgar natural liking for his only son, and in his present nervous and depressed condition he keenly felt (though he would have scorned to acknowledge it) the need of human sympathy. It was therefore highly disagreeable to him that none was forthcoming. Raymond was dutiful still, solicitous for his comfort, and always at his beck and call, but his manner plainly showed that he had been hardly used and could not forget it. Directly he had become acquainted with the fact that he had an independence of his own, he had, as we have seen, gone at once to Nelly, and asked her to become his wife; but in accordance with his promise to Mr. Tatham he had said nothing of his having acquired this knowledge to his father, nor of course of the action that he had taken on becoming possessed of it. The melancholy that had seized him since his rejection by Nellie was therefore set down by Ralph Pennicuick as caused by his own opposition to the match, which indeed in the main it was; and his fear was that, when his son should come into his mother's money, he would do the very thing which in fact he had done, only with the opposite result; that is to say, that Nelly, trusting to his own éventual forgiveness, or perhaps rendered careless of it by her passion, might accept his son's love and marry him out of hand. He had therefore used every argument to Herbert Milburn to induce him to prevent this catastrophe by marrying the girl himself. As time went on, and Raymond in due course came into his slender inheritance, it was no small relief to his father that he did not take the course thus apprehended; and to reward him for itthough he was careful not to say so--he informed him that for the future his allowance would be continued to him notwithstanding that he had now an equal income of his own. "You may have wondered, my lad, why I have never told you of the existence of the little independence that has become your own; the reason was, not that I desired to keep you in leading-strings, but that I wished

you to practise economy and self-restraint, since an exaggerated view of what would probably be yours some day-and certainly will be if you continue to please me-might lead you into habits of extravagance. But now that you have shown you are a sensible fellow, and know the value of money, I have great pleasure in making you easy in your circumstances: you will henceforward have six hundred a year to spend instead of three hundred.'

Thank you, sir,' said Raymond (never did the expression of gratitude have less of cordiality in it). I think, however, it is but right that you should know all, before bestowing your generosity upon what you may consider an unworthy object.'

'Know all?' exclaimed the other, once more alarmed lest his son should have set him at nought by a secret marriage; 'you have done nothing, I hope, that you are ashamed of.'

'No, sir: though I would have done something, if I could, of which you would not have approved.'

Raymond had never felt so galled, antagonistic, and (albeit he had nothing now to fear) so defiant. His father's words had sounded very bitter to him. The reason he had given for his silence about his mother's money was, he felt, a false one; he had been kept in ignorance of it for the very cause which the other had disclaimed, namely, that he might be kept in leading-strings. The allusion to his father's fortune was also false; instead of taking an exaggerated view of it, Ralph Pennicuick must have known that his son had believed it to be much less than it really was. The threat implied in the phrase "if you continue to please me' was offensive to the young man; and, above all, the sense that his father's objection to his marriage had proved an insurmountable bar to Nelly's acceptance of him, made him very grave and grim.

Ralph Pennicuick's mind leaped at once to the truth, so far as the girl was concerned.

If nothing has been done amiss, Raymond,' said he quietly, 'you may trust to my forgiveness of the intention, since I conclude that it no longer exists.'

But it does exist, sir, and it always will exist,' answered the young man quickly. The first use I made of the discovery of my independence was to ask Miss Conway to become my wife.'

I had an idea that when we last talked upon this subject, Raymond, that course of action was barred.'

No, sir it was agreed that I should not damage the young lady's prospects, as regarded your proffered aid, by urging my suit: but since she refused your bounty, she could be no longer harmed by acting counter to your wishes. I proposed therefore to marry