country. I remember his caressing a little boy of my brother's; you know Jack, Sir, not a little boy now, almost as tall as this gentleman. "Ah," said he with a sort of sigh, "ah! I have a boy at home about this age,—when shall I see him again?"
"When indeed!" thought Walter, turning away his face at this anecdote, to him so naturally affecting.
"And the night that Clarke left you, were you aware of his absence?"
"No! he went to his room at his usual hour, which was late, and the next morning I found his bed had not been slept in, and that he was gone—gone with all his jewels, money, and valuables; heavy luggage he had none. He was a cunning gentleman; he never loved paying a bill. He was greatly in debt in different parts of the town, though he had not been here long. He ordered everything and paid for nothing."
Walter groaned. It was his father's character exactly; partly it might be from dishonest principles superadded to the earlier feelings of his nature;
