ual honour."

"You'll have your sons choosing themselves wives soon, John. I fancy
Guy has a soft place in his heart for that pretty Grace Oldtower."

But the father made no answer. He was always tenacious over the
slightest approach to such jests as these. And besides, just at this
moment Mr. Brown, Lord Luxmore's steward, passed--riding solemnly
along. He barely touched his hat to Mr. Halifax.

"Poor Mr. Brown! He has a grudge against me for those Mexican
speculations I refused to embark in; he did, and lost everything but
what he gets from Lord Luxmore. I do think, Phineas, the country has
been running mad this year after speculation. There is sure to come a
panic afterwards, and indeed it seems already beginning."

"But you are secure? You have not joined in the mania, the crash
cannot harm you? Did I not hear you say that you were not afraid of
losing a single penny?"

"Yes--unfortunately," with a troubled smile.

"John, what do you mean?"

"I mean, that to stand upright while one's neighbours are falling on
all sides is a most trying position. Misfortune makes people unjust.
The other day at the sessions I got cold looks enough from my brother
magistrates--looks that would have set my blood boiling twenty years
ago. And--you saw in the Norton Bury Mercury that article about
'grasping plebeian millionaires'--'wool-spinners, spinning out of their
country's vitals.' That's meant for me, Phineas. Don't look
incredulous. Yes--for me."

"How disgraceful!"

"Perhaps so--but to them more than to me. I feel sorry, because of the
harm it may do me--especially among working people, who know nothing
but what they hear, and believe everything that is told them. They see
I thrive and others fail--that my mills are the only cloth mills in
full work, and I have more hands than I can employ. Every week I am
obliged to send new-comers away. Then they raise the old cry--that my
machinery has ruined labour. So, you see, for all that Guy says about
our prosperity, his father does not sleep exactly upon a bed of roses."

"It is wicked--atrocious!"

"Not at all. Only natural--the penalty one has to pay for success. It
will die out most likely; meantime, we will mind it as little as we
can."

"But are you safe?--your life--" For a sudden fear crossed me--a fear
not unwarranted by more than one event of this year--this terrible 1825.

"Safe?--Yes--" and his eyes were lifted, "I believe my life is safe--