s not easily soothed. He had practised lucidity all
his life, had expected it of others and had never given his assent to an
indistinct proposition. He was weak, yet not too weak to recognise that
he had formed a calculation now vitiated by a wrong factor--put his name
to a contract of which the other side had not been carried out. More
than fifty years of conscious success pressed him to try to understand;
he had never muddled his affairs and he couldn't muddle them now. At the
same time he was aware of the necessity of economising his effort, and
he would gather that inward force, patiently and almost cunningly, for
the right question and the right induction. He was still able to make
his agitation reflective, and it could still consort with his high hopes
of Nick that he should find himself regarding mere vague, verbal
comfort, words in the air, as an inadequate guarantee. So after he had
attached his dim vision to his young friend's face a moment he brought
out: "Have you done anything bad?"

"Nothing worse than usual," Nick laughed.

"Ah everything should have been better than usual."

"Well, it hasn't been that--that I must say."

"Do you sometimes think of your father?" Mr. Carteret continued.

Nick had a decent pause. "_You_ make me think of him--you've always that
pleasant effect."

"His name would have lived--it mustn't be lost."

"Yes, but the competition to-day is terrible," Nick returned.

His host considered this as if he found a serious flaw in it; after
which he began again: "I never supposed you a trifler."

"I'm determined not to be."

"I thought her charming. Don't you love Mrs. Dallow?" Mr. Carteret
profoundly asked.

"Don't put it to me so to-day, for I feel sore and injured. I don't
think she has treated me well."

"You should have held her--you shouldn't have let her go," the old man
returned with unexpected fire.

His visitor flushed at this, so strange was it to receive a lesson in
energy from a dying octogenarian. Yet after an instant Nick answered
with due modesty: "I haven't been clever enough, no doubt."

"Don't say that, don't say that--!" Mr. Carteret shrunk from the
thought. "Don't think I can allow you any easing-off of that sort. I
know how well you've done. You're taking your place. Several gentlemen
have told me. Hasn't she felt a scruple, knowing my settlement on you to
depend----?" he pursued.

"Oh she hasn't known--hasn't known anything about it."

"I don't unde