the Belfast trustees, watching uneasily from a distance, received a
letter from Lord Blackwater, announcing Lady Alice's runaway marriage
with a certain Colonel Wensleydale, formerly of the Grenadier Guards.
Lord Blackwater professed himself vastly annoyed and displeased. The
young people, furiously in love, had managed the affair, however, with a
skill that baffled all vigilance. Married they were, and without any
settlements, Colonel Wensleydale having nothing to settle, and Lady
Alice, like a little fool, being only anxious to pour all that she
possessed into the lap of her beloved. The father threw himself on the
mercy of the trustees, reminding them that in little more than three
years Lady Alice would become unfettered mistress of her own fortune,
and begging them meanwhile to make proper provision for the rash but
happy pair. Harry Wensleydale, after all, was a rattling good fellow,
with whom all the young women were in love. The thing, though naughty,
was natural; and the colonel would make an excellent husband.

One Presbyterian trustee left his business in Belfast and ventured
himself among the abominations of Paris. He was much befooled and
befeasted. He found a shy young wife tremulously in love; a handsome
husband; an amiable step-mother. He knew no one in Paris who could
enlighten him, and was not clever enough to invent means of getting
information for himself. He was induced to promise a sufficient income
for the moment on behalf of himself and his co-trustee; and for the rest
was obliged to be content with vague assurances from Colonel Wensleydale
that as soon as his wife came into her property fitting settlements
should be made.

Four years passed by. The young people lived with the Blackwaters, and
their income kept the establishment going. Lady Alice had a child, and
was at first not altogether unhappy. She was little more than a timid