John was greatly surprised: but still more indignant at this reception of him. He walked up to the table at which Mr. Barrett sat. Mr. William stood with his back to the dusty fireplace close by. Neither of them spoke, but looked at him with that overwhelming effect of silent observation which makes the steadiest footstep falter, and conveys embarrassment and awkwardness into the most self-controlled being. John said ‘Good-morning,’ and they both acknowledged it: Mr. William by an abrupt nod, his father by the most solemn inclination of his head. The young man did not know what to say. He stood and looked at them, wondering, indignant, taking his little packet of papers out of his pocket. What had he done to be so regarded?--or had he perhaps come into the midst of some consultation about other matters with which they were pre-occupied? He said, ‘Is there anything the matter?’ at last, saying to himself that it was impossible he could be the cause of such concentrated solemnity, and looking at the younger partner with a half smile. ‘There is a great deal the matter,’ said Mr. Barrett. ‘Yes,’ said his son; ‘it’s rather a grave business, Sandford. I don’t see it in quite the same light as my father. Still, it’s at least a great want of confidence, a strange slur upon us, who, so far as I know, have nothing to reproach ourselves with in respect to you.’ ‘Certainly not, sir,’ said John: ‘you have always been very kind and given me every opportunity; but I hope on my part I have not done anything to make you suppose I am ungrateful, or have not appreciated my advantages.’ ‘We have nothing to complain of so far as the works are concerned. I think, sir, I may say that?’ ‘It is a point on which I should not like to commit myself,’ said the senior partner. ‘These works at Hampstead, so far as I hear----’ ‘They went wrong when he was away. He can’t be blamed for that: he came back before his time and went over at once, and made every thing shipshape again. He can’t be blamed for that. Whatever went wrong was after his leave began.’ ‘An engineer,’ said the elder gentleman, in his rigid way, ‘who means to do justice to his profession, doesn’t want leave. The works are his first interest--he has no occasion to go away to amuse himself.’ ‘Oh, come, father! you’re making that a fault which is no fault--and we have a ground of offence which is real enough. Sandford, you came here the other day and told me of a scheme you had for draining the Thames valley. You may say I was disposed to pooh-pooh it a bit; but I didn’t say more than one does naturally with a young fellow’s first ideas, which are always so magnificent. Do you think there was a reason in anything I said for transferring the papers as you’ve done to another firm?’ ‘I transfer them to another firm?’ cried John, ‘you must be dreaming. I have them here.’