man is, that he is able to command his temper, and I
wished you to acknowledge that I was not without such pretensions."

"That is as much as to say that your father is no gentleman; and this,
I presume, is a specimen of your filial duty," replied the general,
warmly.

"Far from it, sir; there are many gentlemen who, unfortunately, cannot
command their tempers, and are more to be pitied than blamed for it;
but, sir, when such happens to be the case, they invariably redeem
their error, and amply so, by expressing their sorrow, and offering
an apology."

"That is as much as to say, that you expect me to apologise to you."

"Allow me, sir, to ask you, did you ever know a De Benyon submit to
an insult?"

"No, sir, I trust not."

"Then, sir, those whose feelings of pride will not allow them to submit
to an insult ought never to insult others. If, in the warmth of the
moment, they have done so, that pride should immediately induce them
to offer an apology, not only due to the party, but to their own
characters. There is no disgrace in making an apology when we are in
error, but there is a great disgrace in withholding such an act of
common justice and reparation."

"I presume I am to infer from all this, that you expect an apology
from me?"

"General De Benyon, as far as I am concerned, that is now of little
importance; we part, and shall probably never meet again; if you think
that it would make you feel more comfortable, I am willing to receive it."

"I must suppose by that observation, that you fully expect it, and
otherwise will not stay?"

"I never had a thought of staying, general; you have told me that you
have disinherited and discarded me for ever; no one with the feelings
of a man would ever think of remaining after such a declaration."

"Upon what terms, then, sir, am I to understand that you will consent to
remain with me, and forget all that has passed?"

"My terms are simple, general; you must say that you retract what you
have said, and are very sorry for having insulted me."

"And without I do that, you will never come here again?"

"Most decidedly not, sir. I shall always wish you well, pray for your
happiness, be sorry at your death, and attend your funeral as chief
mourner, although you disinherit me. That is my duty, in return for my
having taken your name, and your having acknowledged that I am your son;
but live with you, or even see you occasionally, I will not, after what
has passed t