The trusts of a settlement vary greatly according to the nature and value of the property settled and the position of the parties. But all settlements have this in common—the property to be settled is conveyed or assigned to trustees, upon certain trusts for the benefit of the husband and wife—or one of them—and all or some one or more of their children; power being often reserved for the parents during their joint lives, or the survivor of them, to direct what share each child shall have. This power is often very useful in keeping the young people out of the hands of money-lenders. So long as the share which a young gentleman is to receive after the death of his parents remains uncertain, his reversionary interest is not a marketable security.

In England, marriage operates as a revocation of a will made previously; but in Scotland it only partially revokes the will. The reason of this difference is, that by the law of England, a testator, whether married or single, may devise and bequeath all the property of which he may be possessed at the time of his decease; while the testamentary powers of a person whose domicile is in Scotland, if he be a married man, or a widower with children, are to a certain degree restricted.

‘Breach of promise of marriage’ is good ground for an action; and the agreement to marry has one peculiarity which distinguishes it from contracts for the sale of goods of the value of ten pounds or upwards—it need not be in writing, even though the damages claimed may be ten thousand pounds or more. An infant may—by his next friend—maintain an action against an adult for breach of promise; but an adult cannot succeed in such an action against an infant, infancy being a good defence. This distinction is founded upon the principle that an infant can only be bound by his contracts if they are beneficial to him. Actions for breaches of promise, with their reams of ridiculous correspondence, and their exposure of the secrets of both parties, are generally considered amusing reading; and yet the subject has its melancholy side; and we cannot envy the feelings of the plaintiff when exposed to a severe and protracted cross-examination. The House of Commons, at the instance of Sir F. Herschell, now Solicitor-general, a few years ago expressed an opinion adverse to the action in question. Whether that opinion will be followed by legislation on the subject, is probably only a question of time.

TWO DAYS IN A LIFETIME.

A STORY IN EIGHT CHAPTERS.

CHAPTER VII.

When he entered the room, Estelle looked up lazily from her cushions. ‘How much longer have we to stay here, caro mio?’ she asked with a yawn.

‘The carriage will be round in half an hour.’ He sat down a little wearily near the window, and turned his eyes on the pleasant scene outside. There was nothing more to be done till the carriage should arrive.

Bien. We shall just have time for a little tête-à-tête.’ She re-arranged the pillows of the couch to her liking, and smoothed down the skirts of her dress complacently. Suddenly her eye was caught by the glistening of the wedding-ring on her finger. She gave a little start, and glanced round with the air of one who has lost something. ‘Where can I have mislaid them?’ she asked herself under her breath. ‘I must have left them either in the dining-room or up-stairs. Quelle bêtise!’ Then after a moment: ‘Ah, bah! what does it matter? He suspects nothing.’ Addressing her husband, she said abruptly: ‘Listen to me, Oscar Boyd. A little while ago, I offered to relieve you of my presence for ever on condition that you paid me two thousand pounds. You foolishly refused. Well, I will not be hard on you. You tell me that you are a poor man, and I will not dispute the fact. I am willing to reduce my terms. Give me one thousand pounds, and you shall never see me again after to-day.’

‘I will give you nothing, and I will never see you after to-morrow.’