Year: 1873

A proud, stern man was Goefrey Pey-
ton, and rich withal, in wealth and
honors.


He had won distinction at the bar
and on the bench, and had filed the ex-
ecutive chair of his state.


How deeply his proud heart had suf-
fered, those familiar only with his cold
and naughty bearing would have been
surprised to know.


Not very early in life he married one
whom he had long loved with an ardent
devotion, often characteristic of men
like him, and of which weaker natures
are incapable.


In his early struggles with poverty,
he had kept his love a secret. He
would have suffered his heart to break
sooner than have had it whispered he
was seeking advancement through an
alliance with rich old Ronald Mason's
daughter. .f'


But when he could hold up his head
with the highest in the land, he no lon
ger hesitated to speak the words he had
been so many years waiting to utter,
and which Alice Mason had been waiting
to hear.


A few years of unalloyed felicity fol-
lowed their marriage. Though proud
and stern as ever to the outside world,
not the same man was Geoffrey Peyton
at home, his wife by his side and his
bright-eyed boy prattling on his knee.
There he forgot his pride, save that he
felt in those he loved, forgot fame and
ambition and greatness, and remember
ed only that he was happy.


Then came a blow which fell none the
lighter on the proud man'shead because
he gave no sign of yielding. Death
crossed his threshold and took from him
first his wife and then his child.


The last of these bereavements was
peculiarly distressing. The child had
gone for walk with his nurse by the
FLYER side, and in a moment of inatten-
tion on the part of the nurse, had
strayed out Of sight. Soon after, his
hat was found floating on the water.
Alarm was given; search was made; the
river was dragged; but in vain. The
child was no where to be found. The
body, in all likelihood, had been borne
out by the tide.


Geoffrey Peyton bore his loss in ST.
lence. What his grief was no one
knew, for no one was permitted to look
upon it, and sympathy he would have
resented as an impertinence.





Years sped, and Geoffrey Peyton had
become an old man. At his death, his
large fortune would descend by law to
distant relative, young man whose
avarice kept him free from all costly
vices, and who, most vices being costly
enjoyed, in consequence, an excellent
reputation.


But Mr.. Peyton had opinions of his
own as to the disposition of his proper.
ty. Like many men of his caste, he had
an aversion to the division of estates ;
and while not inclined to disinherit his
kinsman, of whom he knew nothing but
his reputation, which, We have already
said, was good, there was one other
whose claims he felt it would be unjust
to overlook.


He had brought up in his house, and
in some sort adopted, Gertrude Gray,
the orphan daughter of M old friend to
whom he had been beholden in his days
of struggle, and who had died leaving
his only child destitute.


Mr.. Peyton's plan, duly set forth in
his will, was to settle his property, in
equal portions, on Gertrude and his
kinsman, provided they married each
other in given period. If either de-
clined the match, the share of the one
declining was to go to the other +; and if
both declined, the whole of his fortune
was given in trust for certain CHAR
tiles.


Three years before the occurrences OF
which We are now to speak, George
Hayne had sought and obtained en-
ployment of Mr.. Peyton as his secre.
tary. The young man proved faithful
and diligent, manifesting, moreover,
qualities of intellect which induced his
employer to encourage the devotion Of
his leisure time to Il course of lega;
study.


/ George made so good use of his op'
portunities, that by the end of three
years he was prepared for admission tc
the bar. He had learned other things
besides the law in the mean time. He
had learned, for instance, how pretty
Gertrude Gray was, and how devotedly
he loved her; though he was too
straightforward to tell her 80 without
first asking permission of Nh Peyton
with whom at last. he sought an inter