and the dragon he slew in the Holy Land. We will adjourn to the drawing-
room, not to disturb your father."

Lucy agreed, took her uncle's arm, repaired to the drawing-room, and
seating herself at the harpsichord, sang to an inspiriting yet somewhat
rude air the family ballad her uncle had demanded.

It would have been amusing to note in the rigid face of the hardened and
habitual man of peace and parchments a certain enthusiasm which ever and
anon crossed his cheek, as the verses of the ballad rested on some
allusion to the knightly House of Brandon and its old renown. It was an
early prejudice, breaking out despite of himself,--a flash of character,
stricken from the hard fossil in which it was imbedded. One would have
supposed that the silliest of all prides (for the pride of money, though
meaner, is less senseless), family pride, was the last weakness which at
that time the callous and astute lawyer would have confessed, even to
himself.

"Lucy," said Brandon, as the song ceased, and he gazed on his beautiful
niece with a certain pride in his aspect, "I long to witness your first
appearance in the world. This lodging, my dear, is not fit--But pardon
me! what I was about to say is this: your father and yourself are here at
my invitation, and in my house you must dwell; you are my guests, not
mine host and hostess. I have therefore already directed my servant to
secure me a house and provide the necessary establishment; and I make no
doubt, as he is a quick fellow, that within three days all will be ready.
You must then be the magnet of my abode, Lucy; and meanwhile you must
explain this to my brother, and--for you know his jealous hospitality--
obtain his acquiescence."