e
say you have already heard of this;--I dare say it has had something
to do with your visit here to-day."

"I know nothing whatever of Sir Abraham Haphazard or his opinion."

"Be that as it may, here it is; he declares most explicitly that under
no phasis of the affair whatever have you a leg to stand upon; that Mr
Harding is as safe in his hospital as I am here in my rectory; that a
more futile attempt to destroy a man was never made, than this which
you have made to ruin Mr Harding. Here," and he slapped the paper
on the table, "I have this opinion from the very first lawyer in the
land; and under these circumstances you expect me to make you a low
bow for your kind offer to release Mr Harding from the toils of your
net! Sir, your net is not strong enough to hold him; sir, your net
has fallen to pieces, and you knew that well enough before I told
you--and now, sir, I'll wish you good-morning, for I'm busy."

Bold was now choking with passion. He had let the archdeacon run on
because he knew not with what words to interrupt him; but now that he
had been so defied and insulted, he could not leave the room without
some reply.

"Dr Grantly," he commenced.

"I have nothing further to say or to hear," said the archdeacon.
"I'll do myself the honour to order your horse." And he rang the
bell.

"I came here, Dr Grantly, with the warmest, kindest feelings--"

"Oh, of course you did; nobody doubts it."

"With the kindest feelings;--and they have been most grossly outraged
by your treatment."

"Of course they have;--I have not chosen to see my father-in-law
ruined; what an outrage that has been to your feelings!"

"The time will come, Dr Grantly, when you will understand why I called
upon you to-day."

"No doubt, no doubt. Is Mr Bold's horse there? That's right; open
the front door. Good-morning, Mr Bold;" and the doctor stalked into
his own drawing-room, closing the door behind him, and making it quite
impossible that John Bold should speak another word.

As he got on his horse, which he was fain to do feeling like a dog
turned out of a kitchen, he was again greeted by little Sammy.

"Good-bye, Mr Bold; I hope we may have the pleasure of seeing you
again before long; I am sure papa will always be glad to see you."

That was certainly the bitterest moment in John Bold's life. Not even
the remembrance of his successful love could comfort him; nay, when
he thought of Eleanor he felt that it was that very