Richard?"

"Oh, dear no, my Lord; we spent most of the afternoon in admiring your fine gallery of family pictures; there's a long line of De Veres."

"Did you observe any peculiarity in the pictures?"

"I can't say I did, my Lord," answered Sir Richard.

"I did though," said Sir Harry; "and that was—excuse me, Mr. Lennox, but you are taking white wine with the brown vein of the venison"—(Mr. L. rectified his error)—"that was—hock, if you please,"—(to the footman)—"yes,—what was I saying? Some jelly—I thank you,—yes, yes,—that your Lordship had placed all the old personages on the right side, and all the young on the left side of the fireplaces,—a curious crotchet—some beer,—I thank you."

The Colonel was a great bon vivant.

"It is no arrangement," said the Earl; "but since the time of Earl Hugh, or the Roundhead peer as we call him, none of the family ever became old."

"A most curious fancy indeed! Here, Andrew, some more hock; this venison is beyond all praise, my Lord, cooked to the nicety of a minute,—a singular fancy to prefer dying so early,—ha! ha! ha!"

"It is no fancy, Sir Harry; you have evidently not heard of the Weird of the Wentworths."

"Do, Lord Wentworth, tell it to us,—you have so often promised," said Ellen.

"Of course," said the Earl; "I must do whatever a lady asks,—especially what Miss Ravensworth wishes."

He then told the singular narrative of Augusta de Vere, which we shall not repeat, as our readers already are acquainted with it. Lord Wentworth had merely wished to tell Ellen; but as he told a story remarkably well, before he had finished he found the whole table listening to him.

"A most singular and interesting story, my Lord," said Mr. Lennox; "but I opine we must give it the same belief we give ghost stories in general."

"No, Mr. Lennox," said the Marchioness, "this is quite unlike all other stories, because its truth is proved by facts in the Peerage:—you will find no De Vere since Hugh, Earl Wentworth, ever lived to be old."

"Certainly a curious coincidence, Lady Arranmore; and possibly explained by the simple fact, the De Veres are a short-lived family."

"But," said Lady Florence, "they were very long-lived before, as the portraits show; you must never tell a De Vere you misbelieve The Weird."

"There's no doubt about the matter," said the Captain; "with everything to attest it, he must be a fool who does not credit it; you will see all of us will be knocked on the head soon enough,—girls first; but a short and merry life for me!"

"Indeed, John, I don't see why we should die before you," said Lady Arranmore. "I fear you will be the first, with your fights and duels."

"Devil a fear; come, I'll bet I outlive both of you!"

"Come, I don't like this jesting," said the Marquis; "it is a serious thing; and for my part I am like Lennox, and don't believe in such nonsense."

"Nor I," said Sir Harry; "you are all hale and well; why should you think you will die so early? What a splendid pine!—will you allow me to give you some, Lady Florence?"

"I should think it was enough to make you quite nervous, Lady Arranmore," said Ellen, still thinking on the Weird,—"it is such a dreadful thing."

"No, Miss Ravensworth, we have become so accustomed to it, and brought up in the belief, we are almost proud of our doom,—we have learned to love it almost. After all, I should not like to grow old and—"

"Hideous," said the Captain; "no, no,—whom the gods love die young!"

"I fear, then, you will be the first old man, John, in our family," said Lady Florence, laughing.

"A good one! How d'you like that, Captain?" said Sir Richard, filling his glass. "Your health, De Vere!"

Without replying the Captain drank wine.

"If this is really an established fact," said Mr. Power, "I think it should make you very serious; it is doubtless intended as a warning; and if your days are to be short on earth, do you ever think that, after death, there is an endless existence of bliss or misery?"

"After all," said the Earl, "you are no better than we are, Mr. Power;—none of us know our end."

"True, my Lord; but if, as you say, none of your family live long,—and you are now all grown up,—the time is short; and you should take the more earnest heed to these matters."

"That is not my theory, Power: 'Happy for the day, careless for the morrow,'—that's Scripture; at least it was when I was a boy," said the Captain, whose ideas of the Bible were not very correct.

"This is the very perversion of Scripture, my young friend; when it bids us not be careful of the morrow, it means we are to lay all our cares on One who has promised to carry them."

"Well, Power, I am not learned in divinity; you stick to your trade, and I will to mine; you be a soldier of God, and I will a soldier of the King, or the devil, if you like it!"

A suppressed murmur of disapprobation followed this, and the Earl changed the conversation by a totally irrelevant remark. Sir Richard, unfortunately for himself, as the story will show, brought back the conversation by saying they had found some striking resemblances to the present family in some of the portraits.

"Indeed!" said the Earl. "And in whom did you find my likeness?"

"In the seventh Earl,—Algernon, I think was his name,—a young man in a hunting suit. Then we found out a likeness for Lady Florence, in her grandaunt Guendolen; and for the Marchioness in the Abbess Augusta; but the best of all was—"

"Don't, please!" said Lady Florence, whispering across Johnny; "don't say it; John doesn't like it." (Whether he did not comprehend Lady Florence's meaning, or whether he wished to prove the truth of her assertion, we know not; but in an evil moment he finished his remark)—

"—was the likeness to the Captain."

"And to whom do you liken me?" said the Captain, in a gloomy voice.

"To whom? Why,—ha! ha! ha! I shall die with laughter,—it was so like,—the old Roundhead peer, Hugh. I'faith you might have been brothers!"

"I wish to God you would find likenesses to yourself, and leave me alone! I like that old murderer, egad!—I like that!"

"Come, there's no harm meant,—it's a mere joke."

"D—n joking," muttered the Captain,—"I like the old Roundhead, egad!"

Lady Arranmore, fearing there was something looming here, bowed to Ellen Ravensworth, and the ladies rose and left the room. The Captain looked gloomy, and appeared to have taken great umbrage at the unhappy resemblance; it was not a newly found out likeness, and even before this he had shown great wrath at the allusion. It was never quite evident why he disliked it, but at any rate it was evident he did so. When the ladies were retired, Sir Richard, anxious to gloss over his mistake, began—

"Really De Vere, you take mortal offence at a jeu d'esprit."

"Sir Richard, you seem determined to work me up to-night. I advise you to think twice before you do so, or by heaven you may repent it."

"Why, De Vere, I think you are—I was going to say—crazy to-night: I merely said you were like Earl Hugh—you are like, and there let it end, I shall say no more."

The Captain was not inclined to let matters drop so easily, and replied, "I shan't drop it in such a jolly hurry; the fact is you have laid a plot to annoy me: egad you have, you did it before the ladies, and now you're raking the accursed thing up again, which proves it. You compared me to that d—able old renegade just to enrage me, by G— you did. I like that d—d, round-headed old ——! You have insulted me, Sir Richard. I am not the man to brook insults—you will apologize—I demand an apology."

The whole room were listening in dead silence to the quarrel, and Johnny, who had not yet left, was in high delight at the prospect of a scene. No one interfered yet, and the loud voice of the Captain as he demanded an apology to