n was compelled
to drink it. Why should not a man employ himself, openly and
legitimately, in the brewing of bad beer, if the demand for bad beer
were so great as to enable him to live by the occupation? On the
other hand, Luke Rowan was personally known to none of them; and they
were jealous that a change should come among them with any view of
teaching them a lesson or improving their condition. They believed,
or thought they believed, that Mr. Tappitt had been ill-treated in
his counting-house. It was grievous to them that a man with a wife
and three daughters should have been threatened by a young unmarried
man,--by a man whose shoulders were laden with no family burden.
Whether Rowan's propositions had been in truth good or evil, just
or unjust, they had not inquired, and would not probably have
ascertained had they done so. But they judged the man and condemned
him. Mr. Comfort was brought round to condemn him as thoroughly
as did Dr. Harford,--not reflecting, as he did so, how fatal his
condemnation might be to the happiness of poor Rachel Ray.

"The fact is, Butler," said the doctor, when Mr. Comfort had left
them, and gone to the drawing-room;--"the fact is, your wife has not
played her cards at the brewery as well as she usually does play
them. She has been taking this young fellow's part; and after that I
don't know how she was to expect that Tappitt would stand by you."

"No general can succeed always," said Cornbury, laughing.

"Well; some generals do. But I must confess your wife is generally
very successful. Come; we'll go up-stairs; and don't you tell her
that I've been finding fault. She's as good as gold, and I can't
afford to quarrel with her; but I think she has tripped here."

When the old doctor and Butler Cornbury reached the drawing-room the
names of Rowan and Tappitt had not been as yet banished from the
conversation; but to them had been added some others. Rachel's name
had been again mentioned, as had also that of Rachel's sister.

"Papa, who do you think is going to be married?" said Miss Harford.

"Not you, my dear, is it?" said the doctor.

"Mr. Prong is going to be married to Mrs. Prime," said Miss Harford,
showing by the solemnity of her voice that she regarded the subject
as one which should by its nature repress any further joke.

Nor was Dr. Harford inclined to joke when he heard such tidings as
these. "Mr. Prong!" said he. "Nonsense; who told you?"

"Well, it was Baker told