The gentleman bowed also, and took the seat indicated, keeping his gold-rimmed glasses on his nose. "You are my brother James's son, I presume?" "The same, sir." "You are surprised to see me here?" "Yes, sir--now." "Why now?" was the quick question that followed like the snap of a trigger. "Years and years ago, when I was a lad, I fancied that you might visit here, and make an effort to bridge over an ugly gulf, sir." "Years and years ago, young man, I had too much upon my mind, and, it was just possible, more pride in my heart than to make the first advances." "You were the richer man--and you had done the wrong." "Wrong, sir!" replied the other; "there was no wrong done that I am aware of. I was a man careful of my money, and your father was a man improvident with his. Was it wrong to object to an alliance?" "I have but a dim knowledge of the story, sir. My father does not care to dwell upon it." "I will tell it you." The old gentleman drew his chair nearer to Sidney; the young man held up his hand. "Pardon me, but I have no desire to hear it. Were I to press my father, I could learn it from his own lips. Please state the object of your coming hither." "To make the first advances in the latter days that have come to him and me," he said; "can I say more? To help him if he be in distress--and to assist his son if he find the world hard to cope with. It is a romantic appearance, a romantic penitence if you will, for not allowing your father to spend my money as well as his own," he added, with a slight curl of the lip, which turned Sidney suddenly against him; "but it is an effort to bridge over the gulf to which you have recently alluded." "I fear my father will not thank you for the effort," was the cold reply; "and for the help which you would offer now, I can answer for his refusal." "Ah! he was always a proud fellow, and blind to his own interest," was the quiet observation here; "his friends laughed at his pride, and traded in his weakness before you were born." "He has one friend living who respects them now, sir." "His son, I presume?" "His son, sir." "I am glad that his son is so high-spirited; but he will find that amiable feeling rather in the way of his advancement." "No, sir--I think not." Mr. Hinchford regarded Sidney very closely; he did not appear put out by the young man's retorts, and he was pleased at the effect that his own satire had upon him. "Well," he said at last, "I have not come to quarrel with my nephew--I am here as a peace-maker, and, lo! the son starts up with all the father's old obstinacies. Your name is Sidney, I believe." "Yes, sir." "Sidney Hinchford, then," said he, "if you be a man of the world--which I fancy you are--you will not turn your back on your own interests for the sake of the grudge which my unforgiving brother may owe me. That's not the way of the world, unless it's the world of silly novel-writers and poets."