to Sir Henry, saying that he would be at his
chambers at the hour named. From that moment the salutary effort was
discontinued, the work was put aside, and the good that had been done
was all revoked.

Sir Henry came, true to his appointment. Whatever might be
his object, he was energetic in it. He was now a man of many
concernments; hours were scanty with him, and a day much too short.
The calls of clients, and the calls of party, joined to those other
calls which society makes upon men in such brilliant stations, hardly
left him time for sleeping; but not the less urgent was he in his
resolve to see his beaten rival who would so willingly have left him
to his brilliant joy. But was not all this explained long even before
Christianity was in vogue? "Quos Deus vult perdere, prius dementat."
Whom God will confound, those he first maddens.

Nothing could exceed the bland friendship, the winning manners, and
the frank courtesy of Sir Henry. He said but little about what was
past; but that little went to show that he had been blessed with the
hand of Caroline Waddington only because Bertram had rejected that
blessing as not worthy his acceptance. Great man as he was, he almost
humbled himself before Bertram's talent. He spoke of their mutual
connection at Hadley as though they two were his heirs of right, and
as though their rights were equal; and then he ended by begging that
they might still be friends.

"Our careers must be widely different," said Bertram, somewhat
touched by his tone; "yours will be in the light; mine must be in the
dark."

"Most men who do any good live in the dark for some period of their
lives," said Harcourt. "I, too, have had my dark days, and doubtless
shall have them again; but neither with you nor with me will they
endure long."

Bertram thought that Harcourt knew nothing about it, and sneered when
the successful man talked of his dark days. What darkness had his
mental eyesight ever known? We are all apt to think when our days are
dark that there is no darkness so dark as our own.

"I know what your feelings are," continued Sir Henry; "and I hope
you will forgive me if I speak openly. You have resolved not to meet
Caroline. My object is to make you put aside that resolve. It is
my object and hers also. It is out of the question that you should
continue to avoid the world. Your walk in life will be that of
a literary man: but nowadays literary men become senators and
statesmen. They ha