We must now change the scene to a fine estate in the interior of New York State, near one of the beautiful lakes which give such a charm to the surrounding landscape.

The estate was a large one, laid out in the English style, with a fine mansion centrally located and elegantly furnished. Surely the owner of this fine domain was worthy of envy, and ought to have been happy.

Let us enter the breakfast room and make acquaintance with him.

There he sits in an easy-chair, a white-haired, shrunken old man, his face deeply lined, and wearing a weary expression as if the world afforded him little satisfaction.

It was the same old man whom we last saw in the circus at Crampton. He had gone home with his nephew at once, having become weary of travel. It was wise, perhaps; for he was old, and to the old rest is welcome.

His nephew sat near by with a daily paper in his hand, from which he appeared to have been reading to his uncle.

"That will do, Hugo," said the old man. "I—I don't find any interest in the paper this morning."

"How are you feeling, uncle—as well as usual?"

"Well in health—that is, as well as I can expect to feel, but my life is empty. I have nothing to live for."

"Why don't you die then?" thought the nephew, but he did not express his thought. On the contrary, he said, "Surely, uncle, you have much to live for. You are rich, honored."

"But I have no one to love me, Hugo," said the old man, plaintively, "no one of my own blood. My son is dead, and his son—do you know, Hugo," he continued in a different voice, "I cannot get out of my mind that boy we saw in the circus?"

Hugo shrugged his shoulder, but did not venture to express the annoyance he felt.

"You mean the—the O'Connor boy," he said indifferently.

"O'Connor!" replied his uncle, in surprise. "You told me his name was Oliver Brown."

"Did I?" said Hugo, flushing. "Oh, well, I had forgotten. The name didn't impress me. I thought he was an Irish boy."

"You said he was born in Montreal, and that his parents lived there now."

"Oh, well, no doubt you are right, uncle: you know I didn't take as much interest in him as you—"

"True, Hugo; but surely you could detect the wonderful resemblance to my son Julian."

"I can't say I did, uncle; but probably we looked at him with different eyes."

"That was natural. How much do you think they pay him in the circus, Hugo?"

"Really, uncle, I haven't the slightest idea. I never knew any circus people. Four or five dollars a week, perhaps."

"I have been thinking, Hugo, I should like to have that boy live with me."

"You can't be in earnest, uncle," said Hugo, very disagreeably surprised.

"Why not? He may not be akin to me; but he looks like my dead son, and for that resemblance I could come to love him. It would be a great comfort to me to see him every day, and have him come in and out. He might read to me, and so relieve you of some of your duties, Hugo."

"But I have never asked to be relieved of them, uncle," said Hugo, bashfully.

"I know that, Hugo, but he would be company for us both. I want you to go and bring him back with you. You can find out how much they pay him at the circus, and offer him more to come here. I will give him a chance to study, engage masters for him, and—"

"Make him your heir, I suppose," said Hugo to himself, with a dark frown, which his uncle did not see; "not if I am able to prevent it. My uncle must think I am a fool to bring into the house so dangerous a rival. After waiting so many weary years for Chestnutwood, does he think I am going to let it drift into the hands of an unknown boy simply because he looks like my cousin Julian?"

These thoughts passed through the mind of Hugo Richmond, but it is needless to say that he did not give utterance to them, or to anything like them. His course was not to oppose strongly any whim of his uncle, but to seemingly assent, and then oppose it secretly, while the old man thought him to be promoting it.

Nevertheless Hugo was very much annoyed at the present caprice of his uncle, as he chose to style it.

"I wish I had never gone into that circus," he reflected, with annoyance. "Till then my uncle's mind was at rest, and he didn't trouble himself with the thought that Julian's son might still be alive. Now the mischief has been done, and the sight of that boy has upset him and endangered my prospects. Who would have thought that such a chance visit would have led to such results? Well, well, it is going to give me some trouble, but I am master of the situation, and my uncle shall never again set eyes on that boy if I can prevent it."

Hugo took his hat and went out to look after some laborers who were at work in the rear of the lawn, when his attention was drawn to a rather shabby-looking figure approaching the house.