"Ah, sir, I would not burden you further. What right have I to such
kindness, save my name of Leslie?" And in spite of himself, as Randal
concluded, a tone of bitterness, that betrayed reproach, broke forth.
Egerton was too much the man of the world not to comprehend the reproach,
and not to pardon it.

"Certainly," he answered calmly, "as a Leslie you are entitled to my
consideration, and would have been entitled perhaps to more, had I not so
explicitly warned you to the contrary. But the Bar does not seem to
please you?"

"What is the alternative, sir? Let me decide when I hear it," answered
Randal, sullenly. He began to lose respect for the roan who owned he
could do so little for him, and who evidently recommended him to shift
for himself.

If one could have pierced into Egerton's gloomy heart as he noted the
young man's change of tone, it may be a doubt whether one would have seen
there pain or pleasure,--pain, for merely from the force of habit he had
begun to like Randal, or pleasure at the thought that he might have
reason to withdraw that liking. So lone and stoical had grown the man
who had made it his object to have no private life! Revealing, however,
neither pleasure nor pain, but with the composed calmness of a judge upon
the bench, Egerton replied,--

"The alternative is, to continue in the course you have begun, and still
to rely on me."

"Sir, my dear Mr. Egerton," exclaimed Randal, regaining all his usual