"Well," exclaimed Mr. Youle, when he and Bergan had finally succeeded in escaping from the gratitude of Unwick, and the congratulations of friends. "I must say, I never saw such a sudden turn of events as that, in all my legal experience." And after a moment, he added, with unusual gravity, "It does seem as if the blessing of God were with you, and your two rules, Arling." "I hope so," rejoined Bergan, quietly, "for I have learned that I can do nothing worth doing, without it." "I really think," mused Mr. Youle, "if I were to live my life over again, I would adopt your plan. I am afraid that I have helped to save many a scoundrel from deserved punishment, as well as to rob an honest man, now and then, of his just rights; and when one comes to look back on it all, from the stand-point of my age, it does seem as if one might have been in better business. Yes, I believe you are right, Arling; and you have my cordial consent from this time forth, to keep on as you have begun. I confess I thought it was a freak, a whim at first, that would soon give way to the temptations--what we usually call the necessities--of actual, steady practice; but I see that you have a solid principle at the bottom which there's no shaking. Nevertheless, Arling, you can't expect that your judgment is going to be infallible,--that you will never mistake the guilty man for the innocent one, and _vice versa_." "I do not expect it," answered Bergan, seriously. "Errors in judgment, I take it for granted that I shall make, being mortal; but errors in will, I mean to do my best, with God's help, to avoid." A plain carriage, with a trim African on the box, was in waiting when the two gentlemen descended the courthouse steps. "Come, Arling," said Mr. Youle, in a tone of command rather than invitation, "go home and dine with me; there are several things I want to talk to you about." Bergan hesitated; it was easy to see that the plan did not commend itself to his taste. "Never rack your brain for excuses; they won't serve," pursued Mr. Youle, with good-natured peremptoriness; "I mean to take you with me, whether you will or no. It is time for you to overcome your morbid dislike of society; besides, you will see no one but my own family."