"It means a variety of things," he said, looking at Verty; "some people would say that _you_, sir, were outlandish." "Me!" said Verty. "Yes, you; where are those costumes which I presented to you?" "My clothes, sir--from the tailor's?" "Yes, sir." Verty shook his head. "I did'nt feel easy in them, sir," he said; "you know I am an Indian--or if I am not, at least I am a hunter. They cramped me." Mr. Rushton looked at the young man for some moments in silence. "You are a myth," he said, grimly smiling, "a dream--a chimera. You came from no source, and are going nowhere. But I trifle. If I am permitted, sir, I shall institute proper inquiries as to your origin, which has occasioned so much thought. The press of business I have labored under during the last month has not permitted me. Wretched life. I'm sick of it--and go to it like a horse to the traces." "Don't you like law, sir?" "No--I hate it." "Why, sir?" "'Why!'" cried Mr. Rushton, "there you are with your annoying questions! I hate it because it lowers still more my opinion of this miserable humanity. I see everywhere rascality, and fraud, and lies; and because there is danger of becoming the color of the stuff I work in, 'like the dyer's hand.' I hate it," growled Mr. Rushton. "But you must see many noble things, sir, too,--a great deal of goodness, you know." "Well, sir, so I do. I don't deny it. There are _some_ men who are not entirely corrupt,--some who do not cheat systematically, and lie by the compass and the rule. But these are the exceptions. This life and humanity are foul sin from the beginning. Trust no one, young man--not even me; I may turn out a rogue. I am no better than the rest of the wretches!" "Oh, Mr. Rushton!" "There you are with your exclamations!" "Oh, I'm sure, sir--" "Be sure of nothing; let us end this jabber. How is your mother?" said Mr. Rushton, abruptly. "She's very well, sir." "A good woman." "Oh, indeed she is, sir--I love her dearly." "Hum! there's no harm in that, though much selfishness, I do not doubt--all humanity is narrow and selfish. There are some things I procured for her." And Mr. Rushton pointed to a large bundle lying on the chair. "For _ma mere_!" said Verty. "Yes; I suppose that, in your outlandish lingo, means _mother_. Yes, for her; the winter is coming on, and she will need something warm to wrap her--poor creature--from the cold." "Oh, how kind you are, Mr. Rushton!" "Nonsense; I suppose I am at liberty to spend my own money." Verty looked at the lawyer with a grateful smile, and said: "I don't think that what you said about everybody's being selfish and bad is true, sir. You are very good and kind." "Flummery!" observed the cynic, "I had a selfish motive: I wished to appear generous--I wished to be praised--I wished to attach you to my service, in order to employ you, when the time came, in some rascally scheme." "Oh, Mr. Rushton!"