“We must change our lodging, Tom,” said he, when he came home on that night. “I am desirous that, for the few days we remain here, none should trace nor discover us. I will not accept what are called compensations, nor will I live on here to be either a burden or a reproach to men who were once only my equals.”
“You found my worthy grandfather somewhat less tractable than you thought for, sir?” asked Tom.
“He was very fiery and very haughty; but on the whole, there was much that I liked in him. Such vitality in a man of his years is in itself a grand quality, and even in its aggressiveness suggests much to regard. He refused to hear of me for the vacant office, and he would not accept you.”
“How did he take your proposal to aid us by a loan?”
“I never made it. The terms we found ourselves on after half an hour's discussion of other matters rendered such a project impossible.”
“And Lucy, how did she behave through it all?”
“She was not there; I did not see her.”
“So that it turned out as I predicted,—a mere meeting to exchange amenities.”
“The amenities were not many, Tom; and I doubt much if your grandfather will treasure up any very delightful recollections of my acquaintance.”
“I'd like to see the man, woman, or child,” burst out Tom, “who ever got out of his cage without a scratch. I don't believe that Europe contains his equal for irascibility.”