CHAPTER XXXV. PROFESSOR PUFFER’S DECLINE AND FALL.
“Bernard,” said Walter Cunningham, as they sat together in a handsome apartment at the Brevoort House, “I feel that I have not done as well by you as I should.”
“You have been a kind friend to me, Mr. Cunningham. I have lacked for nothing since I have been with you. I think you do yourself injustice.”
“That is true, but suppose anything should happen to me, how would you fare?”
“We won’t think of that, Walter. You are a young man. You are likely to live for many years.”
“So I hope,” said the young Englishman, smiling. “Life is sweet to me, and I have something to live for, especially now that I have you. But I feel that I ought to make a provision for you, to place your future beyond a contingency.”
Bernard did not reply. He waited for Mr. Cunningham to finish what he had to say.
“I shall therefore go to my banker’s this morning, and turn over to you the sum of fifteen thousand dollars. It is not all I intend to do for you, but it will prevent your experiencing inconvenience in the event of any sudden accident to me.”
“Fifteen thousand dollars!” repeated Bernard, in astonishment. “Why, that will make me rich. How can I thank you for your great kindness?”