el better already."

It was well that he did, for at this moment a dispatch was handed in
which gave him a shock, and compelled him to ask Talbot to retire while
he dressed.

"Don't go away, Toll," he said; "I want to see you again."

The dispatch that roused the General from his dream of beneficence was
from his agent at Sevenoaks, and read thus: "Jim Fenton's wedding
occurred this morning. He was accompanied by a man whom several old
citizens firmly believe to be Paul Benedict, though he passed under
another name. Balfour and Benedict's boy were here, and all are gone up
to Number Nine. Will write particulars."

The theological seminary passed at once into the realm of dimly
remembered dreams, to be recalled or forgotten as circumstances should
determine. At present, there was some thing else to occupy the General's
mind.

Before he had completed his toilet, he called for Talbot.

"Toll," said he, "if you were in need of legal advice of the best kind,
and wanted to be put through a thing straight, whether it were right or
not, to whom would you apply? Now mind, I don't want any milksops."

"I know two or three lawyers here who have been through a theological
seminary," Talbot responded, with a knowing smile.

"Oh, get out! There's no joke about this. I mean business now."

"Well, I took pains to show you your man, at my house, once. Don't you
remember him?"

"Cavendish?"

"Yes."

"I don't like him."

"Nor do I. He'll bleed you; but he's your man."

"All right; I want to see him."

"Get into my coupe, and I'll take you to his office."

Mr. Belcher went to the drawer that contained his forged document. Then
he went back to Talbot, and said:

"Would Cavendish come here?"

"Not he! If you want to see him, you must go where he is. He wouldn't
walk into your door to accommodate you if he knew it."

Mr. Belcher was afraid of Cavendish, as far as he could be afraid of any
man. The lawyer had bluffed everybody at the dinner-party, and, in his
way, scoffed at everybody. He had felt in the lawyer's presence the
contact of a nature which possessed more self-assertion and
self-assurance than his own. Be had felt that Cavendish could read him,
could handle him, could see through his schemes. He shrank from exposing
himself, even to the scrutiny of this sharp man, whom he could hire for
any service. But he went again to the drawer, and, with an excited and
trembling hand, drew forth the accursed document. Wi