you."

"Very kind of you, I am sure. You altogether decline then to settle
the account, eh?"

"If you desire it, I will--will make arrangements, certainly; you do
not want it all at once, I suppose?"

"Oh, no; half in three months, and other half in six will do for me."

"It would take a great deal more than all my income to do that, I
fear."

"Your professional income; yes, I suppose it would. I fear they
don't give you five or six thousand a year for staying at home at
Littlebath. But surely you must have saved money; you must have
intended to do something for your son?"

"I have looked upon him as provided for by his uncle."

"Oh!"

"And have therefore been satisfied that he would do well."

"Now, Sir Lionel, I will tell you how the matter is. I know you will
never repay me a shilling of this money, and therefore I shall tell
Pritchett not to bother himself with sending you any more accounts."

"He is a worthy man, and I am sorry he should have had so much
trouble."

"So am I, very; but that's done. He has had the trouble, and I've
paid the money; and, as far as George is concerned, I do not begrudge
it."

"You would not if you knew what his sentiments are."

"I don't care a fig for his sentiments."

"His feelings of gratitude to you are very strong."

"No, they are not. He is not in the least grateful to me, nor do I
wish him to be so. He is an honest lad, with a high spirit, a good
heart, and a bad head. Sometimes I have thought of making him my
heir."

"Ah!" sighed Sir Lionel.

"But I have now firmly made up my mind to do no such thing. He has no
knowledge of the worth of money. He does not value money."

"Oh, there you mistake him; indeed, you do."

"He would do no good with it; and, as regards mine, he won't have
it." Sir Lionel's face again became very doleful.

"But who will have it, George? Whom else have you got to leave it
to?"

"When I want to consult you on that subject, I'll send for you; just
at present I have no wish to do so. And now, if you please, we'll say
no more about money."

Nothing more was said about money, and very little on any other
subject. On what other subject could a pleasant votary of pleasure,
such as Sir Lionel, wish to hold conversation with a worn-out old
miser from the city? He had regarded his brother as a very full
sponge, from which living water might probably be squeezed. But the
sponge, it seemed, was no longer squeezable by him in any way. So