er
should have taken a step which makes it only fair to you that he and his
wife should forget your former conduct."

"John," said Valentine, "I acknowledge that you are right."

John had spoken quite as much, indeed more, in Brandon's interest than
in Valentine's. The manner in which the elder had suffered the younger
to make himself agreeable and engage himself to Dorothea Graham, and
how, when he believed she loved him, he had made it possible for them to
marry, were partly known to him and partly surmised. And now it seemed
in mockery of everything that was decent, becoming, and fair that the
one who had forsaken her should represent himself as having waked, after
a short delusion, and discovered that he loved her still, letting his
brother know this, and perhaps all the world. Such would be a painful
and humiliating position also for the bride. It might even affect the
happiness of the newly-married pair; but John did not wish to hint at
these graver views of the subject; he was afraid to give them too much
importance, and he confidently reckoned on Valentine's volatile
disposition to stand his friend, and soon enable him to get over his
attachment. All that seemed wanting was some degree of present
discretion.

"John, I acknowledge that you are right," repeated Valentine, after an
interval of thought.

"You acknowledge--now we have probed this subject and got to the bottom
of it--that it demands of you absolute silence, and at first some
discretion?"

"Yes; that is settled."

"You mean to take my view?"

"Yes, I do."

As he stood some time lost in thought, John let him alone and began to
write, till, thinking he had pondered enough, he looked up and alluded
to the business Valentine had come about.

"You may as well tell it me, unless you want to take my father into your
council also: he will be here soon."

"No; I thought it would be more right if I spoke to you first, John,
before my uncle heard of it," said Valentine.

"Because it is likely to concern me longer?" asked John.

"Yes; you see what I mean; I should like, if uncle and you would let me,
to go into the bank; I mean as a clerk--nothing more, of course."

"I should want some time to consider that matter," said John. "I was
half afraid you would propose this, Val. It's so like you to take the
easiest thing that offers."

"Is it on my account or on your own that you shall take time?"

"On both. So far as you are concerned, it is no car