Hilda bent anxiously over him, and tried to soothe him, but he pushed her gently away.
"Having discharged my mission, I will now take my leave," said Randulph, after a slight pause, during which he looked on in silent astonishment. "pI will call at some other time, Miss Scarve, to speak to your father respecting the packet."
"No, stay," cried Hilda, hastily. "Some old and secret spring of affection has been touched. I entreat you to wait till he recovers. He will be better presently."
"He is better now;" replied the miser, uncovering his face, "the fit is past;—but it was sharp while it lasted. Randulph Crew," he added faintly, and stretching out his thin hand to him, "I am glad to see you. Years ago, I knew your father well. But unhappy circumstances separated us, and since then I have seen nothing of him. I fancied him alive, and well, and happy, and your sudden announcement of his death gave me a great shock. Your father was a good man, Randulph, a good man, and a kind one."
"He was, indeed, sir," rejoined the young man, in a broken voice, the tears starting to his eyes.
"But somewhat careless in money matters, Randulph; thoughtless and extravagant," pursued the miser. "Nay, I mean nothing disrespectful to his memory," he added, perceiving the young man's colour heighten. "His faults were those of an over-generous nature. He was no man's enemy but his own. He once had a fine property, but, I fear, he dissipated it."
"At all events, he greatly embarrassed it, sir," replied the young man; "and, I lament to say, that the situation of his affairs preyed upon his spirits, and no doubt hastened his end."
"I feared it would be so," said the miser, shaking his head. "But the estates were entailed. They are yours now, and unembarrassed."
"They might have been so, sir," replied the young man; "but I have foregone the advantage I could have taken of my father's creditors, and have placed the estates in their hands, and for their benefit."
"You don't mean to say you have been guilty of such incredible folly, for I can call it nothing else," cried the miser, in a sharp and angry tone, and starting to his feet. "What! give the estates to the very men who ruined your father! Have you been rash and unadvised enough to break down the barriers that the law had built around you for your protection, and let in the enemy into the very heart of the citadel. It is the height of folly,—of madness I should say."
"Folly or not, sir," returned the young man haughtily, "I do not repent the step I have taken. My first consideration was to preserve the memory of my father unblemished."
"Unblemished, pshaw!" cried the miser. "You would have cleared the spots from your father's fair name much more effectually if you had kept fast hold of the estates, instead of reducing yourself to the condition of a beggar."
"Father," exclaimed Hilda, uneaasily, "father, you speak too strongly—much too strongly."
"I am no beggar, sir," replied Randulph, with difficulty repressing his anger, "nor will I allow such a term to be applied to me by you, or any man. Farewell, sir." And he would have left the room, if he had not been detained by the imploring looks of Hilda.
"Well, then, you are reduced to the condition of a poor man, if you prefer the term, and therefore must be a dependent one," said the miser, who
