“I, as my mother will do, accept the burdens of my heritage with the honours,” said the young fellow—“the debts with the credit.” He smiled faintly. “I am afraid I am not a man of fashion.”
“You wish the girl provided for?”
Noll nodded:
“It is only in common honour,” he said. “I wish I could wholly blot out the damage. My—wife—would have had it so.”
The old gentleman put his hand on the young fellow’s shoulder:
“Oliver,” said he—“you are bringing more to your house than it is bringing to you.... Good-bye!”
CHAPTER XCIV
Wherein it is suspected that the Garden of Eden was Well Lost