inimitable in vaudeville, in farce, and in the lighter comedy; but she had
prudently abandoned tragedy in deserting the barn. She was a girl of much
talent and quickness, and discovered exactly the paths in which her vanity
could walk without being wounded. And there was a simplicity, a
frankness, about her manner, that made her a most agreeable companion.

The attachment between her and Godolphin was not very violent; it was a
silken tie, which opportunity could knit and snap a hundred times over
without doing much wrong to the hearts it so lightly united. Over
Godolphin the attachment itself had no influence, while the effects of the
attachment had an influence so great.

One night, after an absence from town of two or three days Godolphin
returned home from the theatre, and found among the letters waiting his
arrival one from his father. It was edged with black; the seal, too, was
black. Godolphin's heart misgave him: tremblingly he opened it, and read
as follows:

"DEAR PERCY,

"I have news for you, which I do not know whether I should call good or
bad. On the one hand, your cousin, that old oddity, Harry Johnstone, is
dead, and has left you, out of his immense fortune, the poor sum of twenty
thousand pounds. But mark! on condition that you leave the Guards, and
either reside with me, or at least leave London, till your majority is
attained. If you refuse these conditions you lose the legacy. It is
rather strange that this curious character should take such pains with
your morals, and yet not leave _me_ a single shilling. But justice is out
of fashion nowadays; your showy virtues only are the rage. I beg, if you
choose to come down here, that you will get me twelve yards of