you by the
hand, on the eve of separation. I shall not have to resist your frank
approaches, Walter, any more.

There was a melancholy in his smile as he said it, that showed he had
found some company and friendship for his thoughts even in that.

'Ah, Mr Carker!' returned Walter. 'Why did you resist them? You could
have done me nothing but good, I am very sure.

He shook his head. 'If there were any good,' he said, 'I could do on
this earth, I would do it, Walter, for you. The sight of you from day to
day, has been at once happiness and remorse to me. But the pleasure has
outweighed the pain. I know that, now, by knowing what I lose.'

'Come in, Mr Carker, and make acquaintance with my good old Uncle,'
urged Walter. 'I have often talked to him about you, and he will be glad
to tell you all he hears from me. I have not,' said Walter, noticing his
hesitation, and speaking with embarrassment himself: 'I have not told
him anything about our last conversation, Mr Carker; not even him,
believe me.

The grey Junior pressed his hand, and tears rose in his eyes.

'If I ever make acquaintance with him, Walter,' he returned, 'it will be
that I may hear tidings of you. Rely on my not wronging your forbearance
and consideration. It would be to wrong it, not to tell him all the
truth, before I sought a word of confidence from him. But I have no
friend or acquaintance except you: and even for your sake, am little
likely to make any.'

'I wish,' said Walter, 'you had suffered me to be your friend indeed. I
always wished it, Mr Carker, as you know; but never half so much as now,
when we are going to part.'

'It is enough replied the other, 'that you have been the friend of my
own breast, and that when I have avoided you most, my heart inclined the
most towards you, and was fullest of you. Walter, good-bye!'

'Good-bye, Mr Carker. Heaven be with you, Sir!' cried Walter with
emotion.

'If,' said the other, retaining his hand while he spoke; 'if when you
come back, you miss me from my old corner, and should hear from anyone
where I am lying, come and look upon my grave. Think that I might have
been as honest and as happy as you! And let me think, when I know time
is coming on, that some one like my former self may stand there, for a
moment, and remember me with pity and forgiveness! Walter, good-bye!'

His figure crept like a shadow down the bright, sun-lighted street, so
cheerful yet so solemn in the early summer morning; a