"This, to begin with. He has a quantity of cotton lying in his stores, which he offers to make over to me, upon a certain valuation. And I shall ship it to Liverpool, as he recommends." "Have you got your money from the North Lyttleton company?" "No, nor from anybody else; -- not yet; but it's coming." "Is this purchase of cotton to be executed immediately?" "Immediately. That's what I have come down for." "How are you to pay Mr. Haye?" "By bills upon the consignees." "Does the purchase swallow up all your means?" "None of them," said Rufus impatiently. "I tell you, it is to be consummated by drawing bills in Haye's favour upon the consignees -- Fleet, Norton & Co." "Suppose the consignment don't pay?" "It _will_ pay, of course! Don't you suppose Haye knows what he is about?" "Yes; but that don't satisfy me, unless I know it too." "_I_ do," said Rufus. "He takes an interest in me for my father's sake; and I think I may say without vanity, for my own; and he is willing to do me a kindness, which he can do without hurting himself. That is all; and very simple." "Too simple," said Winthrop. "What do you mean?" "What are you going to do when you come here?" "Look after my in-comings; and I shall probably go into Haye's office and rub up my arithmetic in the earlier branches. What are _you_ going to do?" "I am going to the office, -- Mr. De Wort's." "What to do there, Governor?" "Read, write, and record, law and lawpapers." "Always at the same thing!" "Always." "Seems a slow way of getting ahead." "It's sure," said Winthrop. "_You_ are sure, I believe, of whatever you undertake. By the way -- have you undertaken the other adventure yet?" "I don't know what you mean." "The adventure we were talking about. -- The heiress." "I can adventure nothing upon speculation," said Winthrop. "Then you have not had a chance to carry out your favourite idea of obligation. Do you know, I never should have suspected you of having such an idea." "Shews how much we go upon speculation even with our nearest friends," said Winthrop. "And how speculation fails there as elsewhere. What a fool Haye has made of himself!" "In what?" "Why, in this match." "What has he done?" "Done! why he has done _it_. Enough, I should think. I wish his folly stood alone." "How do you know he has done it?" "He told me so himself. I met him as I came along just now; and he told me he was to be married to-morrow and would attend to my business next day." "Told you _who_ would?" "He. Himself. Haye." "Told you he was to be married?" "Yes. Who else?" "To whom?" "Why! -- to his niece -- ward -- what is she? Rose Cadwallader." "_Mr._ Haye and Miss Cadwallader!" said Winthrop. "To be sure. What are you thinking of? What have we been talking about?" "You know best," said Winthrop. "My informant had brought another person upon the stage." "Who?" "A Mr. Cadwallader."