“I think you are right, Frank.” The minister rose and began to walk up and down the room as was his habit. There was an air of agitation about him which the young man did not understand. “It is no case of an unjust steward,” he said to himself; “if there’s an unjust steward, it is—and to take the bill and write fourscore would never be the way with—Well, we have both come to the same decision, Frank, and we are both interested parties; I am, I believe, the largest of all Mr. Anderson’s debtors. I owe him——”
“Mr. Buchanan!” cried Frank, springing to his feet. “Mr. Buchanan, I never thought of this. You! for goodness’ sake don’t say any more!”
“I owe him,” the minister repeated slowly, “three hundred pounds. If you were writing that, you know,” he said, with a curious sort of smile, “you would repeat it, once in figures and once in letters, £300—and three hundred pounds. You are quite right; it will be much better to pay it off, at whatever sacrifice, than to feel that it may be demanded from one at any time, as you have demanded it from me!”
“Mr. Buchanan,” cried Frank, eagerly (for what would Elsie say? never, never would she look at him again!), “you may be sure I had never a notion, not an idea of this, not a thought! You were my uncle’s best friend; I can’t think why he didn’t leave you a legacy, or something, far more than this. I remember it was thought surprising there were no legacies, to you or to others. Of course I don’t know who the others may be,” he added with a changed inflection in his voice (for why should he throw any money, that was justly his, to perhaps persons of no importance, unconnected with Elsie?) “but you, sir, you! It is out of the question,” Frank cried.
Mr. Buchanan smiled a little. I fear it did not please him to feel that Frank’s compassion was roused, or that he might be excused the payment of his debt by Frank. Indeed that view of the case changed his feelings altogether. “We need not discuss the question,” he said rather coldly. “I have told you of the only money owing to your uncle’s estate which I know of. I might have stated it to your mother some time since, but did not on account of something that passed between Morrison and myself, which was neither here nor there.”
“What was it, Mr. Buchanan? I cannot believe that my uncle——”
“You know very little about your uncle,” said the minister, testily. “Now, I think I shall keep you no longer to-day: but before your birthday I will see Morrison, and put everything right.”
“It is right as it is,” cried Frank; “why should we have recourse to Morrison? surely you and I are enough to settle it. Mr. Buchanan, you know this never was what was meant. You! to bring you to book! I would rather have bitten out my tongue—I would rather——”
“Come, this is all exaggerated, as my wife says,” said the minister with a laugh. “It is too late to go back upon it. Bring a carriage for your mother, Frank, she will be better at home. You can tell her this if you please: and then let us hear no more of it, my boy. I will see Morrison, and settle with him, and there is no need that any one should think of it more.”
“Only that it is impossible not to think of it,” cried Frank. “Mr. Buchanan——”