Who could resist such a man as this? Amelius, always in extremes, wrung his hand, with an impetuous sense of shame. “I’ve been sulky,” he said, “I’ve been rude, I ought to be ashamed of myself--and I am. There’s only one excuse for me, Rufus. I love her with all my heart and soul; and I’m engaged to be married to her. And yet, if you understand my way of putting it, I’m--in short, I’m in a mess.” With this characteristic preface, he described his position as exactly as he could; having due regard to the necessary reserve on the subject of Mrs. Farnaby. Rufus listened, with the closest attention, from beginning to end; making no attempt to disguise the unfavourable impression which the announcement of the marriage-engagement had made on him. When he spoke next, instead of looking at Amelius as usual, he held his head down, and looked gloomily at his boots. “Well,” he said, “you’ve gone ahead this time, and that’s a fact. She didn’t raise any difficulties that a man could ride off on--did she?” “She was all that was sweet and kind!” Amelius answered, with enthusiasm. “She was all that was sweet and kind,” Rufus absently repeated, still intent on the solid spectacle of his own boots. “And how about uncle Farnaby? Perhaps he’s sweet and kind likewise, or perhaps he cuts up rough? Possible--is it not, sir?” “I don’t know; I haven’t spoken to him yet.” Rufus suddenly looked up. A faint gleam of hope irradiated his long lank face. “Mercy be praised! there’s a last chance for you,” he remarked. “Uncle Farnaby may say No.” “It doesn’t matter what he says,” Amelius rejoined. “She’s old enough to choose for herself, he can’t stop the marriage.” Rufus lifted one wiry yellow forefinger, in a state of perpendicular protest. “He cannot stop the marriage,” the sagacious New Englander admitted; “but he can stop the money, my son. Find out how you stand with him before another day is over your head.” “I can’t go to him this evening.” said Amelius; “he dines out.” “Where is he now?” “At his place of business.” “Fix him at his place of business. Right away!” cried Rufus, springing with sudden energy to his feet. “I don’t think he would like it,” Amelius objected. “He’s not a very pleasant fellow, anywhere; but he’s particularly disagreeable at his place of business.” Rufus walked to the window, and looked out. The objections to Mr. Farnaby appeared to fail, so far, in interesting him. “To put it plainly,” Amelius went on, “there’s something about him that I can’t endure. And--though he’s very civil to me, in his way--I don’t think he has ever got over the discovery that I am a Christian Socialist.” Rufus abruptly turned round from the window, and became attentive again. “So you told him that--did you?” he said. “Of course!” Amelius rejoined, sharply. “Do you suppose I am ashamed of the principles in which I have been brought up?” “You don’t care, I reckon, if all the world knows your principles, persisted Rufus, deliberately leading him on.