ss on condition that he
forgave others, his conscience troubled him; but he gulped it down,
and went on with his angry feelings till sleep came upon him.

But in the morning some of this bitterness had worn away. His last
resolve overnight had been to go to the brewery before breakfast, at
which period of the day Mr. Tappitt was always to be found for half
an hour in his counting-house, and curtly tell the brewer that all
further negotiations between them must be made by their respective
lawyers; but as he was dressing, he reflected that Mr. Tappitt's
position was certainly one of difficulty, that amicable arrangements
would still be best if amicable arrangements were possible, and that
something was due to the man who had for so many years been his
uncle's partner. Mr. Tappitt, moreover, was not responsible for
any of those evil things which had been said about Rachel by Mrs.
Tappitt. Therefore, priding himself somewhat on his charity, he
entered Mr. Tappitt's office without the display of any anger on his
face.

The brewer was standing with his back to the empty fireplace, with
his hands behind the tails of his coat, and his eyes fixed upon a
letter which he had just read, and which lay open upon his desk.
Rowan advanced with his hand out, and Tappitt, hesitating a little as
he obeyed the summons, put out his own and just touched that of his
visitor; then hastily he resumed his position, with his arm behind
his coat-tail.

"I have come down," said Rowan, "because I thought it might be well
to have a little chat with you before breakfast."

The letter which lay open on the desk was from Rowan's lawyer in
London, and contained that offer on Rowan's part of a thousand a year
and retirement, to which Luke still looked as the most comfortable
termination of all their difficulties. Luke had almost forgotten that
he had, ten days since, absolutely instructed his lawyer to make the
offer; but there was the offer made, and lying on Tappitt's table.
Tappitt had been considering it for the last five minutes, and every
additional moment had added to the enmity which he felt against
Rowan. Rowan, at twenty-five, no doubt regarded Tappitt, who was
nearer sixty than fifty, as a very old man; but men of fifty-five
do not like to be so regarded, and are not anxious to be laid upon
shelves by their juniors. And, moreover, where was Tappitt to find
his security for the thousand a year,--as he had not failed to remark
to himself on