Thus plunged in the deepest meditation, Sir Howard burst suddenly upon him, holding in his hand a letter.
"I am come," said he, "to say farewell! I must depart immediately; I have no time to lose; my uncle is dead. This letter conveys the intelligence. It is written by my trusty friend, my uncle's steward; and unless I arrive in due time, it is supposed the executors will proceed in examining the will without me, and I have every right to expect I am nominated sole heir to all his property. The journey is a long one, but I must go; so farewell! I shall write to you from Northumberland, and inform you of the result. In the meantime visit the De Brookes for me; perhaps you will see them but once, ere they quit London for their residence in Wales. You know, dear Melliphant, I rely upon your steady friendship. An affair of the heart cannot be entrusted in better hands than yours, because of all men living you are the least likely to become my rival,—ever laughing at and despising those who suffer themselves to be entangled in the snares of love. Farewell, my dear fellow!"
With breathless haste, Sir Howard next proceeded to the De Brookes, where he staid but a few minutes, merely to bid his compliments of adieu; adding in obsequious accents, "that if upon his return, he did not find them in London, he should avail himself of a former permission granted him by the General to pay them a visit towards autumn in their country
