removed. 'Horses quarrel over the
empty crib,' says the proverb. Wealth is not happiness, but it can
command happiness."

"Young people nowadays are very generous with others' money, but have
no taste for earning their own. I will do nothing for the husband of
Annele of the Lion, whose fair words have to be bought with gold."

"What if your nephew should die?"

"He will probably be buried."

"And what will become of the children?"

"We can never tell what will become of children."

"Has your nephew ever offended you in any way?"

"I know not how he could offend me."

"Then what can you do better with your money than now--"

"If I ever need a guardian, I will ask to have you appointed, Mr.
Pilgrim."

"I see I am not clever enough for you."

"You do me too much honor," said Petrovitsch, putting one foot over the
other and playing with the lappet of his slipper.

"I have done my duty," said Pilgrim again.

"And cheaply, too, at the expense of a couple of fair words. A bushel
of them would not cost much. I would buy at that rate."

"This is my first and last request to you."

"And this is my first and last refusal to you."

"Good morning, Mr. Lenz!"

"The same to you, Mr. Pilgrim."

At the door Pilgrim turned, his face crimson and his eyes flashing.
"Mr. Lenz, do you know what you are doing?"

"I generally know pretty well what I am doing."

"You are absolutely turning me out of your house."

"Indeed!" said Petrovitsch with an ugly smile; but his eyes fell before
the look of mingled pain and defiance in Pilgrim's face. "Mr. Lenz,"
continued the young man, "from you I bear everything. There lives not a
man within sight of a hedge or a tree that can yield a stick, who can
boast of having insulted Pilgrim with impunity. You can: and do you
know the reason? Because I am willing to bear insults in my friend's
cause. Unhappily it is all I can do for him. No angry word shall you
hear from me that you can use as a pretext for not helping my friend.
For his sake I gladly suffer insults. Tell all the world, if you will,
that you have turned me out of your house."

"It would not be much to boast of."

Pilgrim's breath came short and quick; his lips grew white, and without
another word he left the room.

Petrovitsch sent after him such a look of triumph as a satisfied fox
might send after the wounded and fugitive hare whose blood he had
sucked, but whose life the poor creature might save as he could.

W