Before dinner the matter was settled at the Grange.  The stern old man bade his visitor sit down, and then explained to him at full length that which it was proposed to do.  So much money the Squire had himself put by; so much more Mr. Bolton himself would advance; the value had been properly computed; and, should the arrangement be completed, he, John Caldigate, would sell his inheritance at its proper price.  Over and over again the young man endeavoured to interrupt the speaker, but was told to postpone his words till the other should have done.  Such interruptions came from the too evident fact that Mr. Bolton thoroughly despised his guest.  Caldigate, though he had been very foolish, though he had loved to slaughter rats and rabbits, and to romp with the girls at Babington, was by no means a fool.  He was possessed of good natural abilities, of great activity, and of a high spirit.  His appreciation was quicker than that of the old banker, who, as he soon saw, had altogether failed to understand him.  In every word that the banker spoke, it was evident that he thought that these thousands would be squandered instantly.  The banker spoke as though this terrible severance was to be made because the natural heir had shown himself to be irrevocably bad.  What could be expected from a youth who was deep in the books of a Davis before he had left his college?  ‘I do not recommend this,’ he said at last.  ’I have never recommended it.  The disruption is so great as to be awful.  But when your father has asked what better step he could take, I have been unable to advise him.’  It was as though the old man were telling the young one that he was too bad for hope, and that, therefore, he must be consigned for ever to perdition.

Caldigate, conscious of the mistake which the banker was making, full of hope as to himself, intending to acknowledge the follies of which he had been guilty, and, at the same time, not to promise,—­for he would not condescend so far,—­but to profess that they were things of the past, and impatient of the judgment expressed against him, endeavoured to stop the old man in his severity, so that the tone in which the business was being done might be altered.  But when he found that he could not do this without offence, he leaned back in his chair, and heard the indictment to the end.  ‘Now, Mr. Bolton,’ he said, when at length his time came, ‘you shall hear my view of the matter.’  And Mr. Bolton did hear him, listening very patiently.  Caldigate first asserted, that in coming there, to Puritan Grange, his object had been to learn what were the terms proposed,—­as to which he was now willing to give his assent.  He had already quite made up his mind to sell what property he had on the estate, and therefore, though he was much indebted to Mr. Bolton for his disinterested and kind friendship, he was hardly in want of counsel on that matter.  Mr. Bolton raised his eyebrows, but still listened patiently.  Caldigate then went on to explain his