prosperity spoken of as a thing of chance,—­as having come from gambling on an extensive scale.  She herself regarded money acquired in so unholy a way as likely to turn to slate-stones, or to fly away and become worse than nothing.  She knew that Mr. Bolton, whether regenerate or not, regarded young Caldigate as an adventurer, and that therefore, the idea of such a marriage would be as unpalatable to him as to herself.  But she did not dare to tell her visitor that he was an unregenerate kite, lest her husband would not support her.

‘Whatever more you have got to say, you had better say it to him,’ she replied to the lover when he had come to the end of his defence.  At that moment the door opened, and a gentleman entered the room.  This was Mr. Robert Bolton, the attorney.  Now of all her husband’s sons,—­who were, of course, not her sons,—­Mrs. Bolton saw this one the most frequently and perhaps liked him the least.  Or it might be juster to say that she was more afraid of him than of the others.  The two eldest, who were both in the bank, were quiet, sober men, who lived affluently and were married to religious wives, and brought up their children plentifully and piously.  She did not see very much of them, because her life was not a social life.  But among her friends they were the most intimate.  But Robert’s wife was given to gaiety and dinner-parties and had been seen even at balls.  And Robert himself was much oftener at the Grange than either of the other brothers.  He managed his father’s private affairs, and was, perhaps, of all his sons the best liked by the father.  He was prosperous in his business and was reported to be the leading lawyer in the town.  In the old Cambridge days he had entertained John Caldigate at his house; and though they had not met since the miner’s return from Australia, each at once knew the other, and their greeting was friendly ‘Where’s Hess?’ said Robert, asking at once after his sister.

‘She is engaged, Robert,’ said Mrs. Bolton, very seriously, and very firmly.

’She gave me a commission about some silk, and Margaret says that it can’t be executed in Cambridge.  She must write to Fanny.’  Margaret was Mrs. Robert Bolton, and Fanny was the wife of the barrister brother who lived in London.

‘I will tell her, Robert.’

‘All the same I should have liked to have seen her.’

‘She is engaged, Robert.’  This was said almost more seriously and more firmly than before.

‘Well, Caldigate,’ said the attorney, turning to the visitor, ’so you are the one man who has not only gone to the gold country and found gold, but has brought his gold home with him.’

‘I have brought a little home;—­but I hope others have done so before.’

’I have never heard of any.  You seem to have been uncommonly lucky.  Hard work, wasn’t it?’

‘Hard enough at first.’

‘And a good deal of chance?’

’If a man will work steadily, and has backbone enough to stand up against reverses without consoling himself with drink; and if, when the gold comes, he can refrain from throwing it about as though it were endless, I think a man may be tolerably sure to earn something.’  Then he told the story of the horse with the golden shoes.