and insidious--a Vivien of forty leading Merlin by the beard. I am not
prepared to contend that the nephew was always in the right, but I know
he always got the worst of it, which amounts to about the same thing. At
the end of eight or ten months he saw that the position was untenable,
packed his trunk one night, and quitted the MENAGE--the menagerie, as he
calls it.

This was three weeks ago. Having a small property of his own, some
fifteen hundred dollars a year, I believe, Lynde at first thought to go
abroad. It was always his dream to go abroad. But I persuaded him out of
that, seeing how perilous it would be for a young fellow of his
inexperience and impressible disposition to go rambling alone over the
Continent. Paris was his idea. Paris would not make a mouthful of him. I
have talked him out of that, I repeat, and have succeeded in convincing
him that the wisest course for him to pursue is to go to some pleasant
town or village within hailing distance of one of our larger cities, and
spend the summer quietly. I even suggested he should make the personal
acquaintance of some light employment, to help him forget the gorgeous
castle of cards which has just tumbled down about his ears. In six
words, I have sent him to Rivermouth.

Now, my dear uncle, I have wasted eight pages of paper and probably a
hundred dollars' worth of your time, if you do not see that I am begging
you to find a position for Lynde in the Nautilus Bank. After a little
practice he would make a skilful accountant, and the question of salary
is, as you see, of secondary importance. Manage to retain him at
Rivermouth if you possibly can. David Lynde has the strongest affection
for the lad, and if Vivien, whose name is Elizabeth, is not careful how
she drags Merlin around by the beard, he will reassert himself in some
unexpected manner. If he were to serve her as he is supposed to have