commercial crisis that their companies could not stand; and Mr.
Dynevor's death spared him from the sight of the crash, which his
talent and sagacity might possibly have averted. He had shown no
misgivings, but, no sooner was he removed from the helm, than the
vessel was found on the brink of destruction. Enormous sums had been
sunk without tangible return, and the liabilities of the companies
far surpassed anything that they had realized.

Lord Ormersfield was stunned and helpless. Mrs. Dynevor had but one
idea--namely, to sacrifice everything to clear her husband's name.
Her sons were mere boys, and the only person who proved himself able
to act or judge was the heir of Ormersfield, then about four-and-
twenty, who came forward with sound judgment and upright
dispassionate sense of justice to cope with the difficulties and
clear away the involvements.

He joined his father in mortgaging land, sacrificing timber, and
reducing the establishment, so as to set the estate in the way of
finally becoming free, though at the expense of rigid economy and
self-denial.

Cheveleigh could not have been saved, even had the heiress not been
willing to yield everything to satisfy the just claims of the
creditors. She was happy when she heard that it would suffice, and
that no one would be able to accuse her husband of having wronged
him. But for this, she would hardly have submitted to retain what
her nephew succeeded in securing for her--namely, an income of about
150 pounds per annum, and the row of houses called Dynevor Terrace,
one of the building ventures at Northwold. This was the sole
dependence with which she and her sons quitted the home of their