I felt that Mr. Moncton acted thus, on purpose to annoy Theophilus, and make him feel the weight of the resentment, which for good reasons he dared not openly express; while he praised my talents and application to business, on purpose to rouse the envy and hatred of my cousin. One afternoon, as we were sitting over the dessert, Mr. Moncton as usual addressed his conversation exclusively to me, which irritated Theophilus to such a degree, that he turned suddenly to his father, and exclaimed with much violence: "You seem, sir, to forget you have a son?" "Yes, when that son forgot what was due to himself, and to his father's house." "You have to thank yourself for _that_," was the insolent reply. "I have trod too closely in your own footsteps, and followed too strictly the honest principles of my father." He laughed bitterly. "It seems strange, that you should be surprised, that such an example should have produced corresponding effects upon the mind and character of your son." Shocked at this horrible speech (for in spite of its awful truth, it seemed terrible from the mouth of a son,) I looked from Theophilus to his father, expecting to see the dark eye of the latter alive with the light of passion. But no--there he sat, mute as a marble statue; it was frightful to contemplate the glossy stare of his glittering eye, the rigid immobility of his countenance. "Heavens!" I mentally exclaimed, "can he be insulted in this manner by his only son, and remain thus calm?" But calm he was, without even attempting a reply, whilst his insolent son continued. "By heaven! if you think that advancing that puppy into my place will bend me to your purpose, you grossly deceive yourself. I pity the stupid puppet who can thus sneak to his bitterest enemy, to obtain a position he could never rise to by his own merit. Silly boy!--I laugh at his folly, our shallow policy, and his credulity." The words were scarcely out his mouth, when I sprang from my chair, and with a well-directed blow levelled him at my feet. "Thank you, Geoffrey!" exclaimed Mr. Moncton, raising the crest-fallen hero from the ground: "You have answered both for yourself and me." "I have been too rash," said I, seeing the blood stream copiously from my cousin's nose; "but he exasperated me beyond endurance." "He provoked it himself," returned Mr. Moncton. "I never blame any person when insulted, for taking his own part. You need be under no apprehension of a hostile encounter: Theophilus is a cowardly dog--he can bark and snarl, but dares not fight. Go to your room, Geoffrey, you will be better friends after this." He said this in a tone of such bitter irony, that I hardly knew whether he was pleased with what I had done, or offended, for who could fathom the mind of such a man? I instantly complied with his request, and felt, however mortifying to my pride, that Theophilus Moncton had uttered the truth.