class="x-ebookmaker-pageno" title="p. 30" id="pgepubid00052"/>neither sorrow nor human woes; but would for once live a day wholly devoted to pleasure and to joy, looking on from then to a still more bright and happy future.  Alas! alas! how different often are results from our expectations.  Weeping cometh in the morning as well as at night.  When we are most bent on pleasure, when we fancy we are about to realize, according to our anticipations, its fullest fruition, a dark cloud, charged with mournful tidings, bursts on our head.  The day on which he led Myfanwy to the altar was the day on which he himself became an orphan.  Indeed, he had not left the churchyard before being apprised of the sad intelligence that a father whom he loved so much was now a mangled corpse.  He went home to weep and to grieve, though he did not sorrow as one who had no hope.

CHAPTER II.
A NOBLE RESOLVE NOBLY CARRIED OUT.

It was morning.  Walter Vaughan and his heir were partaking of an early meal before going to the chase.  Just previous to their departure, “faithful Evan,” as he was called by the neighbours, entered the hall, and handed his master a letter, which he received with a trembling hand.  Mr. Vaughan hastily broke the seal, and commenced perusing its contents, but before he had concluded its perusal, he became as pale as death, he shook like an aspen leaf, and his hand trembled violently.  The young lord, seeing his father’s distress and mental agony, became seriously alarmed, and, in a paroxysm of anguish and grief, exclaimed in weeping tones:—

“Oh, father, my dear and fond parent! what is the matter?  Are you ill?”

“My boy,” replied the lord, “I am a ruined man!”

“Ruined, did you say?”

“Yes, completely and, I fear, irretrievably ruined.”

“How, and by what means has so great a calamity befallen you?”

“This I will explain in a few words.  Some time ago I placed my affairs in the hands of an attorney, whom I then believed to be an honest man.  He has, however, proved himself to be a faithless friend and an arrant rogue.  This is his letter, in which he informs me that the lawsuit has been decided in favour of my opponent, who is my bitterest foe.  This vagabond lawyer further tells me, that the costs are so enormous that I shall be compelled to sell my estates in order to meet the liability.  He even doubts whether the castle and manor of Dunraven will realize sufficient, over and above the present encumbrance, to meet the debt.”

“But you need not, dear father, dispose of the estate to satisfy the claims of these lawyers.  There is the twenty thousand pounds my uncle left me in the bank.  I will send an authority to the manager to pay you that sum.  Surely, that will be sufficient to meet all claims.”

“My dear and noble-hearted boy, it almost breaks my heart to be obliged to tell you that your money, even to the last shilling, has already been spent.”

“Surely, you have not raised the whole of that sum?”

“Yes, every penny has gone; and now, dear Walter, your patrimony in a few weeks will, I fear, become the possession of others.”

“This is sad news, my father,” replied Walter junior.  “It is, indeed, a terrible disaster.  But don’t grieve.  What’s done can’t be undone.  I am resolved yet to redeem it, if time be granted me.  I am now penniless; but I will make my own fortune.  I will yet gain for myself a name and a rank which shall be equal to, if it does not surpass, that of my illustrious ancestors.  Now being bereft of all, the poorest of the poor, and dependent upon my own powers and will, I will repair the ruin.”

“By what means will you accomplish this, Walter?” inquired the father.

“Oh, father, by means which are honourable; and by pursuits which lead to fortune.  By work, by labour, by industry, by indomitable plodding, and by engaging in the calling of men who have thereby accumulated untold wealth, and are possessed of unbounded riches.”

“I do not, my son, understand you.  To what pursuit do you refer?”

“To be plain, then, this is my resolve: to engage at once in commercial undertakings, thus following in the footsteps of my late lamented uncle.”

“But, considering the position we occupy in society as the lords of Dunraven, for you to enter upon such an undertaking would be a degradation.”

“But, father, is it not a greater degradation to be poor—to see our lands in the possession of others, to be provided with bread by the toil and labour of others—in short, to see men work, while we refuse to lift up a hand to help them, when we are dependent upon their industry?”

“It is hard to do this, my noble boy; but to me it is still more painful to part with you.”

“You, dear father, have ever been kind and indulgent to me.  Believe me, for I speak from my heart of hearts, that to leave you, though it be but for a season, is to me a matter of deep sorrow.  It is, however, a stern necessity that compels my departure.  I shall, nevertheless, leave you, though with sadness, yet with a buoyant hope, destined, I doubt not to be realised, to return to the home of my fathers laden with gold.  The prospect of that day will cheer me in my labour, will nerve my arm, and help me to surmount any difficulties which may pass athwart my path.”

“God grant you success, my son, for which I will pray fervently during your forced absence.  But whither will you go?”

“I think, dear father, that I can secure immediate employment—an employment, too, which will in no way be degrading to me as your heir.  Yesterday I received a letter from my old friend and companion, Mr. Jones, of Marseilles, who is one of the greatest merchants of that famous city, in which he has asked me to look out for a gentleman to act as confidential clerk.  He further says, that if the right man secures the appointment, and proves to be one who can be trusted, with business habits, tact, and energy, he holds out the prospect of an advantageous partnership.  As he is in immediate want of a young man possessing those qualities, which I fancy I possess, I will write him offering my services, which, considering my altered circumstances, I think he will only feel too proud to accept.”

Young Walter was indeed just the kind of youth Mr. Jones wanted.  He had received the best education which the Oxford of those times afforded.  He had the bump of order largely developed.  He was persevering, painstaking, energetic, and an indomitable plodder; whatever his hand found to do, he did it with all his might.  Anything he undertook he would not give up until he had thoroughly mastered it.  Moreover, he was thoroughly conscientious.  In this virtue he followed his mother’s rather than his father’s family.  Indeed, the old lord was regarded, and was justly considered, as an unprincipled, grasping, and unscrupulous man; and it was his greedy love of gold, and his insatiable thirst for larger possessions, which he sought to secure by unjust means and foul play, that had, in consequence of non-success, brought about his ruin.  He had set up a claim to the heirship of another gentleman’s estate, though its owner’s ancestors were in its possession and enjoyment when Vaughan’s forefathers were menials.  The court, happily, decided the suit in favour of the rightful owner, and to mark their sense of the