d himself up as well as he could, and went on to his office.
The chance of retrieval that had flashed upon him, as he sat smoking by
that ruined hearth the evening before, stood him in such stead now as a
sole hope may; and he said to himself that, having resolved not to sell
his house, he was no more crippled by its loss than he would have been
by letting his money lie idle in it; what he might have raised by
mortgage on it could be made up in some other way; and if they would
sell he could still buy out the whole business of that West Virginia
company, mines, plant, stock on hand, good-will, and everything, and
unite it with his own. He went early in the afternoon to see
Bellingham, whose expressions of condolence for his loss he cut short
with as much politeness as he knew how to throw into his impatience.
Bellingham seemed at first a little dazzled with the splendid courage
of his scheme; it was certainly fine in its way; but then he began to
have his misgivings.

"I happen to know that they haven't got much money behind them," urged
Lapham. "They'll jump at an offer."

Bellingham shook his head. "If they can show profit on the old
manufacture, and prove they can make their paint still cheaper and
better hereafter, they can have all the money they want. And it will
be very difficult for you to raise it if you're threatened by them.
With that competition, you know what your plant at Lapham would be
worth, and what the shrinkage on your manufactured stock would be.
Better sell out to them," he concluded, "if they will buy."

"There ain't money enough in this country to buy out my paint," said
Lapham, buttoning up his coat in a quiver of resentment. "Good
afternoon, sir." Men are but grown-up boys after all. Bellingham
watched this perversely proud and obstinate child fling petulantly out
of his door, and felt a sympathy for him which was as truly kind as it
was helpless.

But Lapham was beginning to see through Bellingham, as he believed.
Bellingham was, in his way, part of that conspiracy by which Lapham's
creditors were trying to drive him to the wall. More than ever now he
was glad that he had nothing to do with that cold-hearted,
self-conceited race, and that the favours so far were all from his
side. He was more than ever determined to show them, every one of
them, high and low, that he and his children could get along without
them, and prosper and triumph without them. He said to himself that if
Pe