General Wyatt.—"I obliged you, sir; I obliged you. Give me your advice, sir; you know your friend. What shall I do? I am not rich. I don't belong to a branch of the government service in which people enrich themselves. But I have my pay; and if your friend could sell me the pictures he's been painting here"—
Cummings.—"That's quite impossible. There is no form in which I could propose such a thing to a man of his generous pride."
General Wyatt.—"Well, then, sir, I must satisfy myself as I can to remain his debtor. Will you kindly undertake to tell him?"
An Elderly Serving-Woman, who appears timidly and anxiously at the right-hand door.—"General Wyatt."
General Wyatt, with a start.—"Yes, Mary! Well?"
Mary, in vanishing.—"Mrs. Wyatt wishes to speak with you."
General Wyatt, going up to Cummings.— "I must go, sir. I leave unsaid what I cannot even try to say." He offers his hand.
Cummings, grasping the proffered hand.—"Everything is understood." But as Mr. Cummings returns from following General Wyatt to the door, his face does not confirm the entire security of his words. He looks anxious and perturbed, and when he has taken up his hat and stick, he stands pondering absent-mindedly. At last he puts on his hat and starts briskly toward the door. Before he reaches it, he encounters Bartlett, who advances abruptly into the room. "Oh! I was going to look for you."