"Of course I owe you nothing now, I never shall owe you anything," said Harrison, as he folded the receipt and placed it carefully in his pocket. "If, at any time hereafter, you should happen to stumble upon a claim against me, don't think of presenting it, for I pledge you my word, if you do, that I will shake this receipt in your face and bid you defiance. The day may come, young man, when you and I will know each other better,—or rather when you will know me better than you now do. As for you, I believe I understand your character pretty well, and cannot refrain from telling you that I think you the most precious scoundrel I ever met."
"I will not compliment you so much as to be angry at that fine speech," returned Dunbar, with great composure. "As far as scoundrelism is concerned, I apprehend that we stand somewhere upon the same level."
A bright spot burned instantly on the old man's cheek, but he did not lose his self-command, and merely answered—
"Time will show that," and waived the lawyer to retire.
The discovery that this man was the guardian of his wife, could not, in the very nature of things, be very agreeable to Dunbar. It caused, instantly, sundry ugly suggestions to arise in his mind, that by no means added to the joy of his wedding night.
"Thank God that she is off my hands," said old Mr. Harrison to his wife, as they returned from the festive scene, "and that she has another guardian."
"You've had trouble enough with her," returned the wife.
"Yes; and but for her father's sake, I should have been tempted long ago to place her property in her hands, and have nothing more to do with her."
"Her husband appears like a very fine young man."
"She's as quite as good as he is. I think them well matched."