amed itself. I wish I and the horses too
had been at the devil, before I had brought this on you. There's no
one else I care so much for: you and Mrs. Garth have always been so
kind to me. However, it's no use saying that. You will always think
me a rascal now."

Fred turned round and hurried out of the room, conscious that he was
getting rather womanish, and feeling confusedly that his being sorry
was not of much use to the Garths. They could see him mount, and
quickly pass through the gate.

"I am disappointed in Fred Vincy," said Mrs. Garth. "I would not have
believed beforehand that he would have drawn you into his debts. I
knew he was extravagant, but I did not think that he would be so mean
as to hang his risks on his oldest friend, who could the least afford
to lose."

"I was a fool, Susan:"

"That you were," said the wife, nodding and smiling. "But I should not
have gone to publish it in the market-place. Why should you keep such
things from me? It is just so with your buttons: you let them burst
off without telling me, and go out with your wristband hanging. If I
had only known I might have been ready with some better plan."

"You are sadly cut up, I know, Susan," said Caleb, looking feelingly at
her. "I can't abide your losing the money you've scraped together for
Alfred."

"It is very well that I _had_ scraped it together; and it is you who
will have to suffer, for you must teach the boy yourself. You must
give up your bad habits. Some men take to drinking, and you have taken
to working without pay. You must indulge yourself a little less in
that. And you must ride over to Mary, and ask the child what money she
has."

Caleb had pushed his chair back, and was leaning forward, shaking his
head slowly, and fitting his finger-tips together with much nicety.

"Poor Mary!" he said. "Susan," he went on in a lowered tone, "I'm
afraid she may be fond of Fred."

"Oh no! She always laughs at him; and he is not likely to think of her
in any other than a brotherly way."

Caleb made no rejoinder, but presently lowered his spectacles, drew up
his chair to the desk, and said, "Deuce take the bill--I wish it was
at Hanover! These things are a sad interruption to business!"

The first part of this speech comprised his whole store of maledictory
expression, and was uttered with a slight snarl easy to imagine. But
it would be difficult to convey to those who never heard him utter the
word "busin