aged the
trust so well. Mr. Taynton could not help feeling somehow that he
deserved it; he had increased Morris's fortune since he had charge of it
by L10,000. And what a lesson, too, he had had, so gently and painlessly
taught him! No one knew better than he how grievously wrong he had got,
in gambling with trust money. Yet now it had come right: he had repaired
the original wrong; on Monday he would reinvest this capital in those
holdings which he had sold, and Morris's L40,000 (so largely the result
of careful and judicious investment) would certainly stand the scrutiny
of any who could possibly have any cause to examine his ledgers. Indeed
there would be nothing to see. Two years ago Mr. Morris Assheton's
fortune was invested in certain railway debentures and Government stock.
It would in a few days' time be invested there again, precisely as it had
been. Mr. Taynton had not been dealing in gilt-edged securities lately,
and could not absolutely trust his memory, but he rather thought that the
repurchase could be made at a somewhat smaller sum than had been realised
by their various sales dating from two years ago. In that case there was
a little more _sub rosa_ reward for this well-inspired justice, weighed
but featherwise against the overwhelming relief of the knowledge he could
make wrong things right again, repair his, yes, his scoundrelism.

How futile, too, now, was Mills's threatened blackmail! Mills might, if
he chose, proclaim on any convenient housetop, that his partner had
gambled with Morris's L40,000 that according to the ledgers was invested
in certain railway debentures and other gilt-edged securities. In a few
days, any scrutiny might be made of the securities lodged at the County
Bank, and assuredly among them would be found those debentures, those
gilt-edged securities exactly as they appeared in the ledgers. Yet Mr.
Taynton, so kindly is the nature of happiness, contemplated no revengeful
step on his partner; he searched his heart and found that no trace of
rancour against poor Mills was hoarded there.

Whether happiness makes us good, is a question not yet decided, but it is
quite certain that happiness makes us forget that we have been bad, and
it seemed to Mr. Taynton, as he sat in his cool dining-room, and ate his
lunch with a more vivid appetite than had been his for many months, it
seemed that the man who had gambled with his client's money was no longer
himself; it was a perfectly different