to find his nephew George awaiting him there. The scholarly clergyman had ensconced himself in the back drawing-room fitted up as a library, and was making free with the books. "What have you there, George?" asked the Colonel, after shaking him by the hand. "You seemed quite absorbed in its contents, and would not have noticed my presence but for Gip's bark."
"A volume of poems I never chanced to meet before. Full of true genius."
"Bless me, poor Arthur Branthwaite's poems. And you were positively reading those—not induced to do so by respect for his father?—Could you make head or tail of them?"
"There is a class of poetry which displeases middle age by the very attributes which render it charming to the young; for each generation has a youth with idiosyncrasies peculiar to itself, and a peculiar poetry by which those idiosyncrasies are expressed."
Here George was beginning to grow metaphysical, and somewhat German, when his uncle's face assumed an expression which can only be compared to that of a man who dreads a very severe and long operation. George humanely hastened to relieve his mind.
"But I will not bore you at present."
"Thank you," said the Colonel, brightening up.
"Perhaps you will lend me the book. I am going down to Lady Montfort's by-and-by, and I can read it by the way."
"Yes, I will lend it to you till next season. Let me have it again then, to put on the table when Frank Vance comes to breakfast with me. The poet was his brother-in-law; and though, for that reason, poets and poetry are a sore subject with Frank, yet, the last time he breakfasted here, I felt, by the shake of his hand in parting, that he felt pleased by a mark of respect to all that is left of poor Arthur Branthwaite. So you are going to Lady Montfort! Ask her why she cuts me!"
"My dear uncle! You know how secluded her life is at present; but she has charged me to assure you of her unalterable regard for you: and whenever her health and spirits are somewhat more recovered, I have no doubt that she will ask you to give her the occasion to make that assurance in person."
Colonel Morley. "Can her health and spirits continue so long affected by grief for the loss of that distant acquaintance whom the law calls her husband?"
George. "She is very far from well, and her spirits are certainly much broken. And now, uncle, for the little favor I came to ask. Since you presented me to Mr. Darrell, he kindly sent
