"No; I've accepted."
Jack wrung his hand hard. "That takes a weight off my mind," he said with a sigh.
"But it seems a low-down thing to take all that money—more of yours too!"
Jack smiled triumphantly. "Well, I happen to be a bit flush o' cash just now—that's the truth, Andy—so you needn't mind. D'ye see that sign?"
"Of course I do, Jack. What's the matter with it?"
"Well, in a month that sign'll come down." He cocked his head on one side as he regarded it. "Yes, down in a month! Seems strange, don't it? Been there sixty year." His sigh was evenly compounded of sorrow and pride.
"What, are you going to retire, Jack?"
"No, I'm not pressin' it on you again! Don't be afraid. To think of my havin' done that! You as are goin' to Parliament! Lord, it's a great day, Andy! Come in and have a glass o' beer." He led the way to his back room, and the cask was called upon to do its duty. "I've sold out, Andy," Jack announced. "Sold out to a concern that calls itself the National, Colonial, and International Purveyors, Limited. That'll look well on the sign, won't it? Four thousand pound they're payin' me, down on the nail, besides pensionin' off old Simpson. Well, it's worth the money, if they can do as well with it as I've done. The house here is thrown in—they mean to enlarge the shop."
"But where are you going to set up house, Jack?"
Jack winked in great enjoyment. "Know of a certain house where a certain old gentleman used to live—him as kept the grammar school—Mr. Hayes, B.A. Oxon? The old house in Highcroft, Andy! It's on the market, and I'm goin' to buy it—to say nothin' of a nice range of stablin' opposite. And there, if you'll accept of 'em, Andy, you'll have your own pair o' rooms always ready for you, when you're down at Meriton over your politics. Parlour and bedroom, there they'll be, and I shan't disturb you. And when I'm gone, there's the old house for you. There's nobody poor Nancy would have been so glad to see in it."