y been in his brother's place I shouldn't have had a
chance. But Gregory knows nothing about this kind of thing, and
Gregory doesn't in the least understand his brother."

"But Ralph has told him so."

"Ralph will say anything. He doesn't mind what lies he tells."

"I think you are too hard on him," said the son.

"Well;--we shall see. But what is it that Ralph has said? And when
did he say it?" Then the son told the father of the short letter
which the parson had received from his brother, and almost repeated
the words of it. And he told the date of the letter, only a day or
two before the Squire's return. "Why the mischief could he not be
honest enough to tell me the same thing, if he had made up his mind?"
said the Squire, angrily. "Put it how you will, he is lying either
to me or to his brother;--probably to both of us. His word either on
one side or on the other is worth nothing. I believe he will take my
money because he wants money, and because he likes money. As for what
he says, it is worth nothing. When he has once written his name, he
cannot go back from it, and there will be comfort in that." Ralph
said nothing more. His father had talked himself into a passion, and
was quite capable of becoming angry, even with him. So he suggested
something about the shooting for next day, and proposed that the
parson should be asked to join them. "He may come if he likes," said
the Squire, "but I give you my word if this goes on much longer, I
shall get to dislike even the sight of him." On that very day the
parson dined with them, and early in the evening the Squire was cold,
and silent, and then snappish. But he warmed afterwards under the
double influence of his own port-wine, and the thorough sweetness of
his nephew's manner. His last words as Gregory left him that night in
the hall were as follows:--"Bother about the church. I'm half sick of
the church. You come and shoot to-morrow. Don't let us have any new
fads about not shooting."

"There are no new fads, uncle Greg, and I'll be with you by twelve
o'clock," said the parson.

"He is very good as parsons go," said the Squire as he shut the door.

"He's as good as gold," said the Squire's son.

CHAPTER XIX.

POLLY'S ANSWER.

Moggs's bill became due before the 20th of September, and Ralph
Newton received due notice,--as of course he had known that he would
do,--that it had not been cashed at his banker's. How should it be
cashed at his banker's, s