the man himself. He--he
himself--would have had none of us; for him--himself--the betrayal at
Hatcham Ford governed the situation and his feelings about it. But he
saw himself as a trustee--a trustee for unborn generations of men, born
to inherit--yet, as things stood, born more than half disinherited!
There was no telling what Jenny thought of. Very likely she had thought
of that, when she made her bribe no mere provision--nor even merely that
"handsome thing"--but the new bestowal of a lost ancestral heritage.
Amid profound incompatibilities, they both had broad views, long
outlooks--a large conception of the bearings of what men do. Jenny had
not been so wrong in thinking of him--nor he in thinking that he could
take her with what she brought. Powerfully had Octon, in his rude
irresistible natural force, and its natural appeal, broken the current,
real if subtle, between them.

I went up to him, holding out my hand. We had won the victory; I did not
feel very triumphant.

"Mr. Austin," he said, as he shook hands, "we make a mistake if we
expect not to have done to us as we do to others, I learn that as I grow
older. Do you understand what I'm at, when I say this?"

"Not very well, I confess, Lord Fillingford."

"Once I went to Miss Driver, holding what I have--my old name, my old
place, my position, my title--I can't think of anything they've given me
except care and a hopeless sense of my own inadequacy--holding those in
my hand and asking for her money. I see now the opposite thing--she
comes holding the money, and asks for what I have. I didn't have my way.
She'll have hers."

"There are the young people." It was all I had to say.

"Ask her to leave me a little of my son. Because there's no doubt.
You've taken away all my weapons, Mr. Austin."

"I wish you'd had this conversation with her--you two together."

He relapsed into his formal propriety of demeanor. "I shall, I trust,
give Miss Driver no reason to complain of any want of courtesy--if Amyas
persists."

"You've accepted it that he will."

"Yes--that's truth," he said. "I may be expected at Breysgate to-morrow
at four."

"Then try to make it happy!"

He gave me a slow pondering look. "There is much between me and her--not
all against her nor for me. I've come to see that. I'll do my best, Mr.
Austin."

He escorted me to the door, and walked in silence with me down a broad
walk, bordered on either side by stately trees, till we came to his