the Linden, there will be the stock, and the crops, and the farming utensils, enough, whether you retain or dispose of them, to set you up in one of the best farms in the county. All was left, I know, to you and your mother. Surely you have not, since your father's death, involved yourself in such a debt as to render this change of situation necessary?"

"I owe no man a farthing, Sir," replied Maurice, with some pride of accent and manner then, catching the kindly glance of his landlord, he continued, mildly and respectfully, "Everything was left to my mother and myself; but, either by accident or design-I believe-I am sure by accident-the will is so worded, that although, in case of our continuing at the Linden Farm, the stock and property of every sort were to remain for my use, upon paying a small annuity to my mother, yet, if we removed, it appears

that the whole is to be sold; the money to be invested in the 3 per cents., and not to be touched either by her or me until her death-neither of us receiving any benefit from this sum beyond the yearly payment of her annuity-which, Heaven grant, may continue for many years!" "This is new to me, Maurice, and strange as well as new. Who is the

executor?"

"Mr. Stephen Elliott, my uncle."

"Humph!--your uncle!

Have you

seen the will? Has any lawyer seen it? Your uncle, Mr. Stephen Elliott, is the executor, you say? Is the will in your father's hand-writing ?"

"No, Sir; in that of Mr. Ball.”

"The little pettifogging lawyer, of Bewley-a man thirty miles off-Stephen Elliott's factotum: I thought so. Well! we must get some one learned in the law to look over it. Not to touch the money

till after your mother's death! - That could never have been the design of the testator, however well it might meet the views of. This must be looked to, Maurice send me a copy of the will."

"You are very good, Sir," replied. Maurice, firmly; "but, with all gratitude for your kindness, I have made up my mind to let the matter rest. Firmly as I believe that my father did not contemplate this state of things-that he never dreamt of our leaving the Linden Farm, it is nevertheless so set down; and there is something in contesting the last will of a parent which I cannot endure. Besides, we shall do very well. My mother will have the comforts to which she has been accustomed, if my labour can provide them; and it will be better for me to be a working-man. I was getting to like sporting better than farming. Phoebe said so, Sir, as well as you. But now all that

.

is out of the question. I can work, as I have proved to her; and, with her for a companion and a reward, I shall be a happier man at the Moors than I should have been in our old house, well as I love it."

"Better and happier perhaps than you might have been, had this not occurred," replied Colonel Lisle, grasping his young tenant's hand with a pressure full of heart; "but not better or happier than you will be there now. The new lease shall be made out to-morrow. Your uncle, for views of his own, and in revenge for your refusal of his daughter, represented you to me as dissipated, idle, extravagant, and careless of all except the caprice of the hour. He even contrived to turn your love for Phoebe into a proof of the lowness of your mind and degradation of your habits. Under this view I sent the notice, fully intending however, especially after I found that he wanted the farm, to examine

VOL. III.

D

more closely into the facts. I ought to have looked into the matter at once; but I can hardly regret not having done so, since the experiment has not only made your character better known to me, but to yourself. And now you must introduce me to Phœbe! There she stands, looking at us;-no! now that she sees that we are looking at her, she turns away, blushing. But that is Phoebe !--I should know the fresh, innocent smile among a thousand.

And, as a lover of all justice-even that shadowy justice called poetical, which is the branch over which we poor authors have most control-I must add, that, whilst Phoebe's smiles grew sweeter and sweeter, as her blushes deepened, Stephen Elliott, the rich and purse-proud uncle, who had crept stealthily within hearing of the conversation, and felt himself detected and defeated, slunk away, hanging down