'I should have been compelled to do so. There. Talking of it will not mend it.' Mr. Henry Hunter took a few turns, and then wheeled round sharply. 'Perhaps there are other claims for "youth's follies" to come behind it?' The words seemed to arouse Mr. Hunter. Not to anger; but to what looked very like fear--almost to an admission that it might be so. 'Were any such further claim to come, I would not satisfy it,' he cried, wiping his face. 'No, I would not; I would go into exile first.' 'We must part,' said Mr. Henry Hunter the expression of his brother's face quite startling him. 'There is no alternative. I cannot risk the beggaring of my wife and children.' 'If it must be so, it must,' was all the reply given. 'Tell me the truth, James,' urged Mr. Henry in a more conciliatory tone. I don't want to part. Tell me all, and let me be the judge. Surely, man! it can't be anything so very dreadful. You didn't set fire to your neighbour's house, I suppose?' 'I never thought the claim could come upon me. That is all I can tell you.' 'Then we part,' decisively returned Mr. Henry Hunter. 'Yes, it may be better. If I am to go to ruin, it is of no use to drag you down into it.' 'If you are to go to ruin!' echoed Mr. Henry, regarding his brother attentively. 'James! is that an admission that other mysterious claims may really follow this one?' 'No, I think they will not. But we had better part. Only--let the cause of our separation be kept from the world.' 'I should be clever to betray the cause, seeing that you leave me in ignorance of what it may be,' answered Mr. Henry Hunter, who was feeling vexed, puzzled, and very angry. 'I mean--let no shadow of the truth get abroad. The business is large enough for two firms, and we have agreed to carry it on apart. Let that be the plea.' 'You take it coolly, James.' A strange expression--a _wrung_ expression--passed over the face of James Hunter. 'I cannot help myself, Henry. The five thousand pounds are gone, and of course it is right that I should bear the loss alone--or any other loss it may bring in its train.' 'But why not impart to me the facts?' 'No. It could not possibly do good; and it might make matters infinitely worse. One advantage our separation will have; there is a great deal of money owing to us from different quarters, and this will call it in.' 'Or I don't see how you would carry anything on for your part, minus your five thousand pounds,' retorted Mr. Henry, in a spirit of satire. 'Will you grant me a favour, Henry?' 'That depends upon what it may be.' 'Let the real grounds of our separation--this miserable affair that has led to it--be equally a secret from your wife, as from the world. I should not ask it without an urgent reason.' 'Don't you mean to tell Louisa?' 'No. The matter is one entirely my own; I do not wish to talk of it even to my wife. Will you give me the promise?' 'Very well. If it be of the consequence you seem to intimate. I cannot fathom you, James.'