THERE IS NO HURRY. 191

by the reckless wildness of one nephew, and
what he believed was the idleness of another—
and convinced that Rosa’s fearful step was ow-
ing to the pampering and mismanagement of
her foolish mother—Charles Adams satisfied
himself that, as he did not hear to the contrary
from Mary, all things were going on well, or at
least not ill. He thought as little about them
as he possibly could, no people in the world be-
ing so conveniently forgotten (when they are not
importunate) as poor relations ; but the letter of
his favourite niece spoke strongly to his heart,
and in two hours after his return home he set
forth for the London suburb from whence the
letter was dated. It so chanced, that to get to
that particular end of the town, he was obliged
to pass the house his brother had occupied so
splendidly for a number of years; the servants
had lit the lamps, and were drawing the curtains
of the noble dining-room; and a party of ladies
were descending from a carriage, which pre-
vented two others from setting down. It look-
ed like old times. ‘* Some one else,” thought
Charles Adams, “running the same career of
wealth and extravagance. God grant it may
not lead to the same results !”” He paused, and
looked up the front of ‘the noble mansion 5 the
drawing-room windows were open, and two
beautiful children were standing on an ottoman
placed between the windows, probably to keep
them apart. He thought of Mary’s childhood,