“So be it,” replied my father, “but there is something I should yet say.  The Mayoress has no doubt told you of some gold, coined and uncoined, that I am leaving for George.  She will also have told you that I am rich; this being so, I should have brought him much more, if I had known that there was any such person.  You have other children; if you leave him anything, you will be taking it away from your own flesh and blood; if you leave him nothing, it will be a slur upon him.  I must therefore send you enough gold, to provide for George as your other children will be provided for; you can settle it upon him at once, and make it clear that the settlement is instead of provision for him by will.  The difficulty is in the getting the gold into Erewhon, and until it is actually here, he must know nothing about it.”

I have no space for the discussion that followed.  In the end it was settled that George was to have 2000 pounds in gold, which the Mayor declared to be too much, and my father too little.  Both, however, were agreed that Erewhon would before long be compelled to enter into relations with foreign countries, in which case the value of gold would decline so much as to make 2000 pounds worth little more than it would be in England.  The Mayor proposed to buy land with it, which he would hand over to George as a gift from himself, and this my father at once acceded to.  All sorts of questions such as will occur to the reader were raised and settled, but I must beg him to be content with knowing that everything was arranged with the good sense that two such men were sure to bring to bear upon it.

The getting the gold into Erewhon was to be managed thus.  George was to know nothing, but a promise was to be got from him that at noon on the following New Year’s day, or whatever day might be agreed upon, he would be at the statues, where either my father or myself would meet him, spend a couple of hours with him, and then return.  Whoever met George was to bring the gold as though it were for the Mayor, and George could be trusted to be human enough to bring it down, when he saw that it would be left where it was if he did not do so.

“He will kick a good deal,” said the Mayor, “at first, but he will come round in the end.”

Luncheon was now announced.  My father was feeling faint and ill; more than once during the forenoon he had had a return of the strange giddiness and momentary loss of memory which had already twice attacked him, but he had recovered in each case so quickly that no one had seen he was unwell.  He, poor man, did not yet know what serious brain exhaustion these attacks betokened, and finding himself in his usual health as soon as they passed away, set them down as simply effects of fatigue and undue excitement.