His uncle rose and took up his hat.
“Well, Leonard, if you have nothing but reproaches, I may as well go. I did think that you would consider my position—my very difficult position. I have at least supported my family, and I have confided the whole to you. If you have nothing to say except to harp upon deception—as if that mattered—I may as well go.”
“Stop! let’s consider the thing. Is there no other way of livelihood?”
“None. The only question is whether I am to conduct the business henceforth under my own name or not.”
“I don’t know that I can advise or help in any way. Why did you come to me?”
“I came for advice—if you have any to give. I came because this misfortune has fallen upon me, and you are reputed to be wise beyond your years.”
“The fact of your occupation is misfortune enough.”
“Well? You have nothing more to say? Then I must go.”
He looked so miserable that Leonard forgot his indignation, and inclined his heart to pity.
“You are afraid of exposure,” he said, “on account of your wife and children.”