I was quite ready for a quarrel, but Theophilus, contrary to my expectations, did not choose to take any notice of my imprudent speech. Not that he wanted personal courage. Like the wasp, he could, when unprovoked, attack others, and sting with tenfold malice when he felt or fancied an affront. His forbearance on the present occasion, I attributed to the very handsome riding-dress in which he had encased his slight and elegant form. A contest with a strong, powerful young fellow like me, might have ended in its demolition: Slashing his boot with his riding-whip, and glancing carelessly towards the window, he said, with an air of perfect indifference, "Well, if the rain means to pour in this way all day, it is certain that I cannot prosecute my journey to Dover on horseback. I must take the coach, and leave the groom to follow with the horses." "Dover!" I repeated, with an involuntary start, "are you off for France?" "Yes" (with a weary yawn); "I shall not return until I have made the tour of Europe, and I just stepped in for a moment to say good-by." "_Unusually_ kind," said I, with a sneer. He remained silent for a few minutes, and seemed slightly embarrassed, as if he found difficulty in bringing out what he had to say. "Geoffrey, I may be absent several years. It is just possible that we may never meet again." "I hope so," was the response in my heart, while he continued, "Your time in this office expires when you reach your majority. Our paths in life are very different, and from that period I must insist upon our remaining perfect strangers to each other." Before I had time to answer his ungracious speech, he turned upon his heel and left the office, and me literally foaming with passion. "Thank God he is gone!" cried Harrison. "My dear Geoff, accept my sincere congratulations. It would indeed be a blessing did you never meet again." "Oh, that he had stayed another minute that I might have demolished his gay plumes! I am so angry, so mortified, George, that I can scarcely control myself." "Nonsense! His departure is a fortunate event for you." "Of course--the absence of one so actively annoying, must make my bondage more tolerable." "Listen to me, petulant boy! there is war in the camp. Theophilus leaves the house under the ban of his father's anger. They have had a desperate quarrel, and he quits London in disgrace; and if you are not a gainer by this change in the domestic arrangements, my name is not George Harrison." "Why do you think so?" "Because I know more of Robert Moncton than you do. To provoke his son to jealousy, he will take you into favour. If Theophilus has gone too far--he is so revengeful, so unforgiving--he may, probably, make you his heir." "May God forbid!" cried I, vehemently. Harrison laughed. "Gold is too bright to betray the dirty channels through which it flows--and I feel certain, Geoffrey----" A quick rap at the office-door terminated all further colloquy, and I rose to admit the intruder.