He did not deny the fact. He said with excitement, “Master, sir—master don't let himself be put a stop to by any man. Master's—not one to be managed. Don't you quarrel with master, Mr. Philip, for the love of God.” The old man was quite pale. “Quarrel!” I said. “I have never quarreled with my father, and I don't mean to begin now.” Morphew dispelled his own excitement by making up the fire, which was dying in the grate. It was a very mild spring evening, and he made up a great blaze which would have suited December. This is one of many ways in which an old servant will relieve his mind. He muttered all the time as he threw on the coals and wood. “He'll not like it—we all know as he'll not like it. Master won't stand no meddling, Mr. Philip,”—this last he discharged at me like a flying arrow as he closed the door. I soon found there was truth in what he said. My father was not angry; he was even half amused. “I don't think that plan of yours will hold water, Phil. I hear you have been paying rents and redeeming furniture—that's an expensive game, and a very profitless one. Of course, so long as you are a benevolent gentleman acting for your own pleasure, it makes no difference to me. I am quite content if I get my money, even out of your pockets—so long as it amuses you. But as my collector, you know, which you are good enough to propose to be——” “Of course I should act under your orders,” I said; but at least you might be sure that I would not commit you to any—to any——” I paused for a word. “Act of oppression,” he said with a smile—“piece of cruelty, exaction—there are half-a-dozen words——” “Sir——” I cried. “Stop, Phil, and let us understand each other. I hope I have always been a just man. I do my duty on my side, and I expect it from others. It is your benevolence that is cruel. I have calculated anxiously how much credit it is safe to allow; but I will allow no man, or woman either, to go beyond what he or she can make up. My law is fixed. Now you understand. My agents, as you call them, originate nothing—they execute only what I decide——” “But then no circumstances are taken into account—no bad luck, no evil chances, no loss unexpected.” “There are no evil chances,” he said “there is no bad luck—they reap as they sow. No, I don't go among them to be cheated by their stories and spend quite unnecessary emotion in sympathising with them. You will find it much better for you that I don't. I deal with them on a general rule, made, I assure you, not without a great deal of thought.” “And must it always be so?” I said. “Is there no way of ameliorating or bringing in a better state of things?” “It seems not,” he said; “we don't get 'no forrarder' in that direction so far as I can see.” And then he turned the conversation to general matters.