The post-horses ordered for Mr. Dunn's carriage arrived, duly, at break of day; but from some change of purpose, of whose motive this veracious history can offer no explanation, that gentleman did not take his departure, but merely despatched a messenger to desire Mr. Hankes would come over to the Hermitage. “I shall remain here to-day, Hankes,” said he, carelessly, “and not impossibly to-morrow also. There's something in the air here suits me, and I have not felt quite well latterly.” Mr. Hankes bowed; but not even his long-practised reserve could conceal the surprise he felt at this allusion to health or well-being. Positive illness he could understand,--a fever or a broken leg were intelligible ills; but the slighter casualties of passing indispositions were weaknesses that he could not imagine a business mind could descend to, no more than he could fancy a man's being turned from pursuing his course because some one had accidentally jostled him in the streets. Dunn was too acute a reader of men's thoughts not to perceive the impression his words had produced; but with the indifference he ever bestowed upon inferiors, he went on:-- “Forward my letters here till you hear from me; there's nothing so very pressing at this moment that cannot wait my return to town. Stay--I was to have had a dinner on Saturday; you'll have to put them off. Clowes will show you the list; and let some of the evening papers mention my being unavoidably detained in the south,--say nothing about indisposition.” “Of course not, sir,” said Hankes, quite shocked at such an indiscretion being deemed possible. “And why, 'of course,' Mr. Hankes?” said Dunn, slowly. “I never knew it was amongst the prerogatives of active minds to be exempt from ailment.” “A bad thing to speak about, sir,--a very bad thing, indeed,” said Hankes, solemnly. “You constantly hear people remark, 'He was never the same man since that last attack.'” “Psha!” said Dunn, contemptuously. “I assure you, sir, I speak the sense of the community. The old adage says, 'Two removes are as bad as a fire,' and in the same spirit I would say, 'Two gouty seizures are equal to a retirement'.” “Absurdity!” said Dunn, angrily. “I never have acknowledged--I never will acknowledge--any such accountability to the world.” “They bring us 'to book' whether we will or not,” said Hankes, sturdily. Dunn started at the words, and turned away to hide his face; and well was it he did so, for it was pale as ashes, even to the lips, which were actually livid. “You may expect me by Sunday morning, Hankes,”--he spoke without turning round,--“and let me have the balance-sheet of the Ossory Bank to look over. We must make no more advances to the gentry down there; we must restrict our discounts.” “Impossible, sir, impossible! There must be no discontent--for the present, at least,” said Hankes; and his voice sunk to a whisper.