A great rise in the world had come to Cornelius Jordan, Q C. They seem all to be Q.C.'s, my reader, those lawyers in Canada; or more than half of them. The Queen is so remote a centre, that the beams of her favour are very widely, if thinly, spread, and this especial title of honour has come to be regarded as a polite and inexpensive attention which new prime ministers make haste to bestow upon their friends. And there are so many prime ministers, that at last it became a ground of dispute, between the minor premiers of the several provinces, and the premier-major at Ottawa, as to which should have the exclusive run of the alphabet for decorative purposes. Mr. Jordan, I repeat, had risen since we met him last at the Misses Stanley's garden tea. Then he was a rising man in his profession, doing well, and in comfortable circumstances; now, he was one risen--full head and shoulders above his fellows, living in a house of the very largest size, and with horses and servants to equal the most prosperous of his neighbours, and reported to be wealthy; not with the startling but evanescent opulence of the merchant prince, which to-day is, and to-morrow is nowhere; but with the reality which attaches to professional wealth in the popular mind, as money actually coined from a man's own brain--the golden fees raked in from grateful clients--without risk, and irrespective of rising and falling markets. His name was spoken with that slight involuntary pause before and after which carries more distinction than any title; it is a form of respect so undefined. "What a man he must be!" his neighbours said, "to have made so much money, and made it so quickly!" made it at his profession, too. Nobody doubted that, for his name was never mixed up in other affairs.

It would have been hard guessing for a quidnunc about the Court House, had he attempted to trace how all that prosperity had been built up out of the fairly good solicitor's and conveyancer's practice carried on at his chambers, or from his not unusually frequent or brilliant appearances in Court; though now that the fruits of success were so evident, these were vastly on the increase. "Ah!" those knowing ones would say, "he is not a brilliant speaker; but sound, sir, sound! What a head for Law the man must have! What clearness of understanding, to have realized such an income. What a style of living he keeps up! How many thousands a year does it take? Quite the leading counsel at our bar." And so clients multiplied, and the suitor whose case failed in his hands felt surer it had had the best presentment than he would have felt had it succeeded with any one else. "If Jordan could not win the suit, pray who could?"

Jordan was liked, too, as well as respected. How could he fail of that? At his dinners, given every week all through the winter, were found the choicest bills of fare and the best people, and every one else was invited to share the feast. It is manifest that one cannot talk unkindly of a man while the flavour of his wine still hovers about the palate--so long, that is, as there is prospect of another invitation. When the last dinner has been eaten, and the last bottle of wine drunk, then truth is apt to come up from the bottom of her well--disturbed, no doubt, by the pumping, when the family is forced to resume water as a beverage--and people's memories become wonderfully refreshed. They recollect--the women, that is--that really the man's wife was not a lady, that things were said at the time of the marriage, and there has been such levity and extravagance since; while the men shake their heads in cynical wisdom. They knew it from the first, and wonder how it has gone on so long, and how a fellow like that could have had the effrontery to entertain their high mightinesses so profusely.

For the present, however, if there was any unacceptable truth at the bottom of Jordan's well, she had the kindness to remain there, well out of sight. The hospitalities proceeded in a genial round; every one was proud to assist at them and spoke highly of the entertainer.

Considine was the only man who had a misgiving, and he kept his doubts and surmises to himself, hoping he was in error. He was associated with this man in many ways; and nothing is gained by letting slip an insinuation against a friend, even if good feeling did not stamp the act as abominable. His own conscience, too, was not at rest in the matter, for the expansion appeared to him to date from very shortly after the change they had adopted in managing the Herkimer Estate. He reproached himself constantly for having consented to sell out the old man's investments, and wondered how he could have been tempted by those miserable brokerages to smirch the honest record of a lifetime. No doubt there had been considerable gain on the new securities purchased with the moiety of the funds which he administered; but what of the other half? Jordan had displayed so implicit a confidence in his judgment, such complete beautiful and gentlemanlike faith in his probity, waiving explanations, motioning off statements with expressions of unbounded reliance in his ability to do what was best, while really "in the press of other matters he had no leisure for unnecessary examinations into matters on which he could not advise," that Considine was completely silenced, and was left no opening to claim reciprocal explanations as to how the moneys in Jordan's hands had been applied.

He heard on 'Change now and then of Jordan granting short loans at fancy rates, and of his "doing" paper which was far from being "gilt-edged," and he thought of that other moiety of the Herkimer fortune. Such operations are not the way in which trust moneys are used for the benefit of the trust; but rather one in which, while loss, if there be any, must needs fall on the trust, the extra profit accrues to the trustee. And what other funds could Jordan have to operate with? Considine knew of none but those which should have been otherwise employed, and for which, he himself would be held responsible if any misadventure were to befall them, and the sum was so large that in case of a catastrophe his own poor little fortune would go but a small way to make up the loss. He could contemplate that with comparative patience--though certainly it would be hard, after the labours and vicissitudes of a lifetime, to see the provision for his declining years swept into a pit, and one not of his own digging--but disgrace would accompany the ruin; that was the intolerable thought.

To finish a life in which he had striven to keep his hands unsoiled and his name without reproach as a defaulting trustee! How he had been wont to scorn such, when they crossed his path! And to think that he should end in being classed with them! Who would stop to inquire into the merits? Had he ever himself stopped to sift the intricacies of a defalcation, before declaring the defaulter to be a rogue? Had not the money been confided to his care, and was he not responsible for it to the heirs? Many a night when he lay awake in the darkness, with nothing to break the stillness but the ticking of his watch at the bed-head, the misgiving and the dread would waken in his mind, and possess him with the restless misery of an aching tooth, which would not be dulled or forgotten, toss and stretch himself as he might; and he would vow in desperation to go down the first thing in the morning and have it out with Jordan; and so, at last, he would fall into a dose, as the grey twilight was stealing on the night.

In the morning his resolution would be with him still. All through dressing and shaving he would feel determined "to have it out with Jordan," and he would run over in his mind the points of his unanswerable argument on which his co-trustee must needs be caught, and compelled to the fullest explanation, clearing away another expected sophism in the defence, with each scrape of the razor on his chin. When he descended to breakfast, however, the morning papers, the smoke of the coffee, the greetings of his fellow-boarders in the hotel, would gradually lead him back to the tone of every-day life and its amenities, and then his intentions would grow less stern. The trenchant points in his argument would grow dim before his eyes, and he would recollect how many things there might be to say on the other side. Perhaps, too, he might have been misinformed as to something, or he might be under some misapprehension--for who, after all, can tell the true inwardness of his neighbour's affairs until death or bankruptcy overtake him?--and how very uncomfortable his position would then be! In what an ungenerous, nay, churlish light he would be exhibiting himself before this most open-hearted and genial of all his friends! Indeed the prospect was not pleasant; then why should he force an interview and place himself in a false position? Was it not a shame in one claiming to be "high-toned," a soldier and a Southern gentleman of ante bellum times, to harbour injurious suspicions of a friend? "He must be bilious this morning--want of exercise. He would ride off his megrims in a two hours' gallop."

And so the days would pass in struggles to drive away the doubts which returned but the more persistently with darkness to spoil his sleep, till at length, in dread of their nightly upbraidings, he would nerve himself to the ungrateful task and stride down to Jordan's chambers, frowningly constraining himself to anticipate the worst, if only to keep his courage from oozing away, as it sometimes would, when he reached the office door, leaving him to turn aside at the last moment and retreat ignominiously into his club, there to solace his drooping self-respect with brandy and soda. When, however, in sterner mood he persevered, it was still not always that the much-engaged lawyer could be seen. He was busy upon a case and could see no one; a client was with him, and two more were waiting their turn for an audience, or he was in court, and Considine--not altogether sorry at the respite--went home in comparative relief. He had done what he could, at least, and surely now the suspicions would leave him for a night or two and let him sleep in peace.

Once or twice, by a lucky chance, he was able to catch the busy man at a vacant moment intrenched behind black bags bursting with briefs, volumes of consolidated statutes, and calf-bound authorities.

"Ha, Considine!" he would cry, in a tone almost too jolly for "the profession" in business hours, "so glad to have been disengaged when you called! See you so seldom. Sit down, old man, and tell me what I can do for you. Don't hurry, I am at leisure now--that is to say, for the next four minutes and a half," he would add, pulling out his watch. "Am to see the judge in chambers just five minutes from now. But take time, I can run down in thirty seconds, so you have good four minutes and a half. So glad you dropped in when I was at leisure."

Then Considine would hesitate and grow confused. He had charged batteries of artillery in his day, had "difficulties" on Mississippi steamboats, which were afterwards arranged with six shooters, "each to go on firing till one dropped," and he had never flinched from his task or quailed before antagonist. But how call this man antagonist? He seemed more ready to embrace than to fight. It was grievous to see him so friendly, and made our warrior feel but a shabby fellow with his inquiries and questions, which would sound so like insinuations, and might wound the genial soul which bore him so much goodwill. Being in for it, however, he must go on. It would never do for a Mississippian to run away, even in honour's cause. He pulled from his pocket a list of the bonds and debentures he held under their joint trusteeship.

"I want you to examine this list of securities, which I keep in my box at the Bank of Progress, and indorse your approval on the back, if you do approve, and we can go over to the bank and compare the papers with the memorandum any day you find convenient."

"Tush, man! It's all perfectly right, I am quite certain. I have every confidence in you, General," declining to receive the paper.

"But I really wish you would look at it. I feel this irregular responsibility unpleasant."

"Bosh! it's all regular enough among friends. You know Ralph Herkimer this ever so long, and I should hope you know me! Imagine either of us getting ugly, and blaming you--whom the testator trusted so entirely--for anything you may do. No, no! And really, you must excuse me, but I cannot afford to muddle my head with unnecessary figures--even to please you! I need, all my clearness for the delicate questions which arise in my practice. I abominate figures at all times, and never tackle them unnecessarily."

"But ought not I to affix some sort of approval to the mortgages you have bought for the estate?"

Jordan lifted his eyes to the other's face, in gentle wonder, as a good man might when wounded rather than offended by an unlooked for aspersion on his honour; and Considine, confused and abashed, stopped short, and then floundered on again:

"I mean it, of course, in no distrustfulness--for what should I distrust?--but just so as fairly and fully to divide the responsibility in case of the heirs desiring to call us to account."

"I really do not know," answered Jordan, matching his voice to the look of mild disappointment without reproach which the other found it so hard to bear up under; "I really don't know. I have not considered the point. It did not occur to me that you would wish to enter into the intricacies of titles in this country, which is a comparatively old one, and the tenures bear no resemblance to those of Mississippi, where I am told you go back only to General Jackson. Our system of law, too, is very different, being derived from the French, and not from the common law, as with you. No! It did not occur to me that you could possibly wish to enter into these mysteries. Our period of trusteeship, too, is drawing near its close. Three years, I should suppose, would conclude it; though I cannot speak precisely without reference to the will, and the date of Mrs. Selby's marriage. Will the study of our Quebec land-system repay you, do you think? And our friend Ralph is so entirely satisfied. Why should you bother?

"But we are not responsible to Ralph."

"No, not exactly. But it will be his boy Gerald, which is much the same thing. The lad goes into partnership with his father shortly, so their interests are identical; and it would surprise me to be told that Master Gerald did or knew anything but what his father told him. A nice boy. Wish my scapegrace was as manageable."

"I have never felt sure of that--of Ralph's boy being heir, I mean. There has been no proof of the missing infant's death; and where there is money the claimant seemingly never dies, but is always reappearing when least expected. But if, as you anticipate, it is to be Ralph we shall have to make up accounts with in the end, I am not confident that we might not have trouble, if he saw an opening for complaint. I have known him long, as you are aware, he is a fine man for business--none better--and has made a handsome fortune, but I had rather not be in his power."

"No fear of that! I fancy I know blaster Ralph, too," pulling out his watch, "but there are few men of mark, especially in business, whom we lawyers cannot lay a hand on, when necessary, to keep them quiet. His bark would be worse than his bite in our case, for I think I know where to light on a muzzle that will keep him quiet enough. Time's up, I see. If you are bent on overhauling those papers of mine, why not come up to dinner some evening? We could do it far more comfortably with the help of a glass of sherry and a good cigar. What day will you come? Friday? Or, let me see, what are you doing this evening? Come up to-night. Half-past seven, sharp. Good-bye, for the present. So glad you are coming."

And Considine would go as invited, and would find a number of other guests assembled; and Jordan would be all geniality and pleasure at having him; but never an allusion to business would escape his lips, nor would they find themselves alone together, even for a moment, till the evening was spent and it was time to go home. And so it fell that Considine's anxieties, while seeming to himself to require but one vigorous effort to end them, were never resolved, but hung about him vague and undefined, like the beginning of a low fever which has not as yet pronounced itself; causing restlessness and care, but bringing also a habit of acceptance which enabled him to live his life in spite of it, only with a diminished relish. His distrust wore in time out of the acute into the chronic form; and it is remarkable, with time, how much of anxiety a healthy man can work through, and apparently be none the worse. Endurance brings a kind of strength to the mind like that which persistence does to the body, when the arsenic eater, after having consumed ounces of the deadly stuff, becomes able to swallow with impunity more than would have killed him not so many months before. The gouty and the rheumatic, too, how long they live!--live and enjoy even, somewhat, through their sufferings.

And in some such fashion Considine lived on, in moderate comfort and prosperity, with the shadow of possible ruin in the back-ground; always felt, but not so strongly that he must disturb the daily furniture of his life by an effort to exorcise the demon; which is a state of things not so very different from what the rest of us endure. We have our threatening shadows too, loss, disease, madness, not so very far off, and always the dismal shade of Death himself looming up behind and dwarfing all the others; yet, like the people before the flood, we manage pretty well to comfort and amuse ourselves in the present.

Considine solaced himself not unsuccessfully under his cares. He had naturally much of the wise vegetable enjoyment of existence, and things conducing thereto, eating, smoking and gentle exercise, which is natural to the country bred more than to those brought up in cities. He had 'Change through the day to gossip and lounge upon, and his club in the evening. He had opportunities too of going into society, even if he did not make the most of them, and very frequently he would spend an hour in the Misses Stanley's drawing-room, sipping tea and talking over the news. He had fallen into the way of spending the hot months at St. Euphrase, just as those ladies spent the cold ones in the city. Their migrations agreed pretty closely in time, and both he and they, owing to years and circumstances, being somewhat out of the swim of busy life, found it pleasant to sit together on the banks, as it were, and watch the gambols and antics of those younger and brisker, who disported themselves in mid-current.

The ladies had come to town the first winter solely for their niece's education, but the following year they undoubtedly had their own solacement quite as much in view as her improvement. The tranquillity and repose of their rural life was if anything too complete, and after having once broken it by wintering in the city, it would have felt like returning to bed after lunch to have remained in the country all the following year. There is a feeling of companionship to be derived even from the faces of our fellows as they pass us in the street, which is pleasant to such as have been leading secluded lives, and it takes months for this mild excitement to lose its relish; but it will grow tame eventually, and so, too, will the morning calls among ladies of a certain age. Humanity being in two forms, which combine with and supplement each other to constitute the perfect whole, a social circle composed of one kind alone must needs be incomplete, tending to limpness if it be feminine, to hardness if all of men.

The day for flirtation and matrimonial intentions may be over, but still the habits and tastes formed in that brighter time survive, even when incorrigible celibacy has caused society to pass by the offenders as hopeless subjects. Fortune, by endowing a young lady with competence, grants her the privilege to be unworldly or critical, so that she lets her precious springtime pass unused. The privilege is by no means an unalloyed boon as the years go by. She finds herself inadmissible to the conclaves of matrons of her own age, where husbands, doctors and children are discussed with freedom; yet her god-daughters and nieces can scarcely be expected to accept her as a compeer; she is a demoiselle passÉe, an outside hoverer on the confines of social life, with the gay bachelors of earlier decades who are still unwed, and whom society passes by as obdurate and hopelessly unavailable for matrimonial use.

It is pitiful to see these disappointed "have-beens," with their relish for youthful pleasures still unslaked, flitting in a disregarded twilight, like Homer's ghosts, while the reviving blood of the sacrificial bull is quaffed by other lips. Well for them, is it not, if they can make up a little party among themselves, and by keeping each other in countenance, contrive to ruffle it without ridicule among the younger revellers?

And so, from mutual convenience and sympathy, Considine and the Misses Stanley became fast comrades. In their drawing-room he could drink a cup of tea with the ladies whenever he had a mind, and they were sure of an escort for the evening when they so desired.