l these deliberations made his mind easy about
the bill. It must come right one way or another; he might have chosen
perhaps not to run it quite so close; but after all the 15th was only
to-morrow, and there were still three days. While his mind was full of
these things he did not care to go upstairs. He heard the voices of the
young people, but he was too much engrossed with his own calculations to
care to join them. It was a close thing, he said to himself, a very
close thing; but still he felt that he could do it--surely he could do
it. If Mr. Copperhead settled with him--and he was the sort of man, a
man to whom money was nothing, to do so on the spot if he took it into
his head--then all was right. And if Mr. Copperhead did not do so, the
bank, though his past transactions with it had not been encouraging,
would certainly make all right on account of these Copperhead payments,
which were as certain as any payments could be. He went to bed early,
being engrossed by these thoughts, not even saying good-night to Ursula,
as was his wont; and he made up his mind to take an early breakfast, and
start the first thing in the morning for the Hall. There was an early
train which would suit admirably. He could not afford to drive, as Sir
Robert had done, changing horses half way. He went upstairs to bed,
somewhat heavily, but not discontented, seeing his way. After all, the
great thing in life is to see your way. It does not matter so much
whether that way is great or small, so long as you can see it plain
before you. Mr. May breathed a sigh of anxiety as he ended the day. He
had a great many things on his mind; but still he was not altogether
heavy-hearted or discouraged beyond measure; things, he felt, would
shape themselves better than he had hoped. He was not perhaps going to
be so much better off than of old, as he thought possible when Clarence
Copperhead came. Such delusive prospects do glimmer across a poor man's
path when any apparent expansion of means occurs to him; but in the
majority of cases he has to consent to see the fine fictitious glow die
away. Mr. May was not ignorant of this experience already. A man who is
over fifty is generally more or less prepared for anything that can
happen to him in this kind; but he thought he could "get on;" and after
all that is the sum of life to three parts of mankind.

He was silent at breakfast, but not disagreeable, and Ursula was too
much taken up with her own concerns to