"Don't be heartless," he said, "I implore you. There, you see how humble I am. There, there--let bygones be bygones. I know you will act like a man by her. Never mind the shame and disgrace, Trethick. She loves you, poor child, and amongst us we have made her suffer cruelly. I have been brutal to her for being as true to you as steel." "True to me, eh?" said Geoffrey. "Yes, poor child, she kept your secret, though she could not keep her own. She felt that she might injure you in your prospects." "You are arranging it all very nicely in your own mind, Uncle Paul," said Geoffrey, quietly, for he was touched by the old man's battle with self. "Don't ridicule me, Trethick," he said, piteously. "I want to make amends for a great wrong. I feel I have been to blame. But be a man, Trethick, and you sha'n't suffer for it. Look here, I am very old now, and I can't take my money with me. Come, be reasonable, Trethick, for the poor child's sake. We'll forget the past and look at the future." "At my expense," said Geoffrey. "No, no, my boy. We are both men of the world, and can afford to laugh at what people say. Let's make both those poor souls happy. There, I'll sink all differences, and I'll give her away; I will indeed. I haven't been in a church these fifteen years, but I'll come and give her away; and look here, my lad," he cried, pulling out a slip of paper, "there's a cheque on the Old Bank for a thousand pounds, payable to you--that's Madge's dowry to start with. Now, what do you say?" "Humph! a thousand, eh?" said Geoffrey, looking admiringly at the speaker. "Yes, a thousand pounds," cried the old man. "Will you make it two?" said Geoffrey. An angry flush came in the old man's face, but he looked across Geoffrey, and saw that poor broken Mrs Mullion was peering in at the doorway, and his rage went with his hesitation. "Yes," he said, "for her sake I'll make it two." "Not enough," said Geoffrey. "Will you make it five thousand down, and all your money bequeathed to us by will?" The old man's breath seemed to be taken away, and he stood gasping angrily; but once more the piteous aspect of the poor woman at the door disarmed him, and he said, in a low, hoarse voice,-- "I haven't long to stop here. You shall have what you say, Trethick, only remove this cloud from the poor girl's life." "Uncle Paul," cried Geoffrey, turning upon him eagerly, "I always liked you, for I knew that you were a stanch old fellow under that rough bark, but I never thought you were so true a man as this. Five thousand pounds, eh? and you make me your heir? Give me your hand." The old man's hand was slowly stretched out, and Geoffrey seized it. "Yes," said Uncle Paul, "and the past shall all be forgotten;" but a look of disgust, in spite of his efforts, came across his face at the mercenary spirit displayed. "Five thousand pounds down?" said Geoffrey, "eh?" "Five thousand pounds down."