Cord and Creese | Page 6

he, very slowly, and with
deep feeling, "has been beyond all words. Ever since I first came to this
country you have been the truest and the best of friends. I hope you
know me well enough to believe that I can never forget it. But now all
this is at an end, and all the bright prospects that I had here must give
way to the call of the sternest duty. In that letter which I received last
night there came a summons home which I can not neglect, and my
whole life hereafter must be directed toward the fulfillment of that
summons. From mid-day yesterday until dawn this morning I paced my
room incessantly, laying out my plans for the future thus suddenly
thrust upon me, and though I have not been able to decide upon any
thing definite, yet I see plainly that nothing less than a life will enable
me to accomplish my duty. The first thing for me to do is to acquaint
you with this and to give up my part in the business."
Mr. Compton placed his elbow on the table near which he had seated
himself, leaned his head upon his hand, and looked at the floor. From
Brandon's tone he perceived that this resolution was irrevocable. The
deep dejection which he felt could not be concealed. He was silent for a
long time.
"God knows," said he, at last, "that I would rather have failed in
business than that this should have happened."
Brandon looked away and said nothing.
"It comes upon me so suddenly," he continued. "I do not know what to

think. And how can I manage these vast affairs without your assistance?
For you were the one who did our business. I know that well. I had no
head for it."
"You can reduce it to smaller proportions." said Brandon; "that can
easily be done."
The old man sighed.
"After all," he continued, "it is not the business. It's losing you that I
think of, dear boy. I'm not thinking of the business at all. My grief is
altogether about your departure. I grieve, too, at the blow which must
have fallen on you to make this necessary."
"The blow is a heavy one," said Brandon; "so heavy that every thing
else in life must be forgotten except the one thought--how to recover
from it; and perhaps, also," he added, in a lower voice, "how to return
it."
Mr. Compton was silent for a long time, and with every minute the
deep dejection of his face and manner increased. He folded his arms
and shut his eyes in deep thought.
"My boy," said he at last, in that same paternal tone which he had used
before, and in a mild, calm voice. "I suppose this thing can not be
helped, and all that is left for me to do is to bear it as best I may. I will
not indulge in any selfish sorrow in the presence of your greater trouble.
I will rather do all in my power to coincide with your wishes. I see now
that you must have a good reason for your decision, although I do not
seek to look into that reason."
"Believe me," said Brandon, "I would show you the letter at once, but it
is so terrible that I would rather that you should not know. It is worse
than death, and I do not even yet begin to know the worst."
The old man sighed, and looked at him with deep commiseration.
"If our separation must indeed be final," said he, at last, "I will take

care that you shall suffer no loss. You shall have your full share of the
capital."
"I leave that entirely to you," said Brandon.
"Fortunately our business is not much scattered. A settlement can easily
be made, and I will arrange it so that you shall not have any loss. Our
balance-sheet was made out only last month, and it showed our firm to
be worth thirty thousand pounds. Half of this is yours, and--"
"Half!" interrupted the other. "My dear friend, you mean a quarter."
The old man waved his hand.
"I said half, and I mean half."
"I will never consent."
"You must."
"Never."
"You shall. Why, think of the petty business that I was doing when you
came here. I was worth about four thousand. You have built up the
business to its present dimensions. Do you suppose that I don't know?"
"I can not allow you to make such a sacrifice," said Brandon.
"Stop," said Mr. Compton. "I have not said all. I attach a condition to
this which I implore you not to refuse. Listen to me, and you will then
be able to see."
Mr. Compton rose and looked