e spot to repair the
error into which my own folly had led me. Uncomfortable as I felt at
the prospect of the approaching interview, I should have been far more
uneasy in my mind if the partner had declined to see me.

To my relief, the bank porter returned with a message requesting me to
walk in.

What particular form my explanations and apologies took when I tried to
offer them is more than I can tell now. I was so confused and distressed
that I hardly knew what I was talking about at the time. The one
circumstance which I remember clearly is that I was ashamed to refer to
my interview with the strange man, and that I tried to account for my
sudden withdrawal of my balance by referring it to some inexplicable
panic, caused by mischievous reports which I was unable to trace to
their source, and which, for anything I knew to the contrary, might,
after all, have been only started in jest. Greatly to my surprise, the
partner did not seem to notice the lamentable lameness of my excuses,
and did not additionally confuse me by asking any questions. A weary,
absent look, which I had observed on his face when I came in, remained
on it while I was speaking. It seemed to be an effort to him even to
keep up the appearance of listening to me; and when, at last, I fairly
broke down in the middle of a sentence, and gave up the hope of getting
any further, all the answer he gave me was comprised in these few civil
commonplace words:

"Never mind, Mr. Trowbridge; pray don't think of apologizing. We are all
liable to make mistakes. Say nothing more about it, and bring the money
back on Monday if you still honor us with your confidence."

He looked down at his papers as if he was anxious to be alone again,
and I had no alternative, of course, but to take my leave immediately.
I went home, feeling a little easier in my mind now that I had paved the
way for making the best practical atonement in my power by bringing my
balance back the first thing on Monday morning. Still, I passed a weary
day on Sunday, reflecting, sadly enough, that I had not yet made my
peace with Mr. Fauntleroy. My anxiety to set myself right with my
generous friend was so intense that I risked intruding myself on his
privacy by calling at his town residence on the Sunday. He was not
there, and his servant could tell me nothing of his whereabouts. There
was no help for it now but to wait till his weekday duties brought him
back to the bank.

I went to business o