an, you came to me and wanted to borrow a hundred dollars."

"Yes, sir."

"Well, I can let you have it."

"No, I thank you."

"What, you don't want it?"

"Well, it wouldn't look exactly right for a rich man's son-in-law to
borrow money so soon after marriage."

"Confound your impudence, sir--I beg your pardon."

"I thank you," said Lyman.

"You thank me? What for?"

"For begging my pardon."

"Come, that is all nonsense, Mr. Lyman. Tell my wife that I'll be
ready in a moment," he shouted with his head thrust in at the door.
"The most absurd of nonsense," he said, turning back to Lyman. "It
will raise a horse laugh throughout the county, and will then be
dismissed as a good joke on me. Yes, sir, on me. And now will you
agree to conform to the requirements of that ridiculous legislature,
and sign the petition to the court?"

"I haven't been informed that the legislature requires me to sign any
petition. And I have no favors to ask of the court."

"Is it possible, Mr. Lyman, that you do not see the necessity of it?"

"And is it possible, Mr. McElwin, that you do not see the humor of
it?"

"The absurdity, yes. But I see no fun in it. I am a dignified man,
sir."

"Of course you tell me this in confidence--that you are a dignified
man. All right--I won't say anything about it. But even dignity
sometimes stands in need of advice. Go home and get a good night's
sleep."

"Do you mean that you won't agree--"

"Not tonight."

"Mr. Lyman, I have heard that you are one of the kindest hearted of
men."

"Oh, then you have heard of me? And I was not an entire stranger when
I called at your bank? Yes, I suppose I have been what they were
pleased to term a good fellow, and it strikes me that I have got the
worst end of the bargain all along; so now, for once in my life, I am
going to be mean. I will not sign your petition, Mr. McElwin."

"What, sir, do you mean it?"

"Yes, I mean it. I cannot afford to surrender a position so
deliciously absurd."

"Then I will compel you, sir." He began to choke with anger.

"All right. I suppose you will invite me to be present."

"I will compel you to leave this town."

"What! After forming so strong an attachment?"

"You are not a gentleman, sir."

"No? Well, I have married into a pretty good family."

"I will not bandy words with you. But I will see you, and perhaps when
you least expect it."

"Very well. Good night, and please remember that there is no humor i