reated him with unabated regard, he
could well afford, he thought, to pass by without notice humors,
which, in his changed condition, he considered equally unreasonable
and absurd. For, he was no longer a mere clerk, without position in
society, but the member of a long-established and wealthy firm, and
a favorite of its head, who seemed to have taken the fortunes of his
young partner into his own hands, with a determination to secure their
success. True, he was the son of a poor and eccentric man, but no
dishonor was attached to his father's name, and so far as education
and genuine refinement were concerned, he was the equal of any, and
the superior of most, by whom he was surrounded. With far different
feelings, therefore, from those in the earlier period of his
acquaintance with Miss Bernard, when he discovered she was becoming
dearer to him than prudence permitted, did he now approach her. He
dared to look forward to the time when it would be no presumption to
avow his feelings.

The cause of William Bernard's coldness will be better understood by a
reference to a conversation between him and his sister, shortly before
the return of Pownal to Hillsdale. Rumor, with her thousand tongues,
had been busy, and, as is not unusual on such occasions, embellished
the story with innumerable fanciful ornaments. The brother and
sister had both heard the reports, and they were the subject of their
discussion.

"Why, Anne!" said William, "this is more wonderful than Robinson
Crusoe, or the Children of the Abbey. How do you think Pownal, or Mr.
Holden, as I suppose we must call him now, relishes the relationship?"

"How, William, can he be otherwise than glad to find a father?"
replied his sister.

"A vast deal depends upon who the father is."

"What! is it you who speak so?" cried Anne, with sparkling eyes. "What
is there in the father unworthy of the son?"

"Were I now in Pownal's place, I should have preferred to discover a
parent in some one else than in a half crazy man, who supports himself
by basket-making."

"And can you not," said his sister, indignantly, "under the mask
which circumstances have imposed upon him, detect the noble-hearted
gentleman? This is not at all like you, William, and I think his very
misfortunes ought to be a passport to your kindness."

"So they should be, and so they are, but the facts, which I will not
repeat, because it offends you, remain. Think you, it can be very
pleasant, for a y