CHAPTER IV.
Mrs.Leslie came up in fidget and in fuss; she leaned over Randal's shoulder and read the card.

Written in pen and ink, with an attempt at imitation of printed Roman character, there appeared first "MR.

FRANK HAZELDEAN;" but just over these letters, and scribbled hastily and less legibly in pencil, was,-- "DEAR LESLIE,--Sorry you were out; come and see us,--do!" "You will go, Randal ?" said Mrs.Leslie, after a pause.
"I am not sure." "Yes, you can go; you have clothes like a gentleman; you can go anywhere, not like those children;" and Mrs.Leslie glanced almost spitefully at poor Oliver's coarse threadbare jacket, and little Juliet's torn frock.
"What I have I owe at present to Mr.Egerton, and I should consult his wishes; he is not on good terms with these Hazeldeans." Then turning towards his brother, who looked mortified, he added, with a strange sort of haughty kindness, "What I may have hereafter, Oliver, I shall owe to myself; and then if I rise, I will raise my family." "Dear Randal," said Mrs.Leslie, fondly kissing him on the forehead, "what a good heart you have!" "No, Mother; my books don't tell me that it is a good heart that gets on in the world: it is a hard head," replied Randal, with a rude and scornful candour.

"But I can read no more just now: come out, Oliver." So saying, he slid from his mother's hand and left the room.

When Oliver joined him, Randal was already on the common; and, without seeming to notice his brother, he continued to walk quickly, and with long strides, in profound silence.