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Harte, Bret, 1836-1902

"A Phyllis of the Sierras"

Looking up
with a half-unconscious smile, Bradley met Lady Canterbridge's examining
eyes.
The next morning, finding an opportunity to be alone with him, Bradley,
with a tactful mingling of sympathy and directness informed his host
that he was cognizant of the disaster that had overtaken the Bank, and
delicately begged him to accept any service he could render him. "Pardon
me," he said, "if I speak as plainly to you as I would to your son: my
friendship for him justifies an equal frankness to any one he loves; but
I should not intrude upon your confidence if I did not believe that my
knowledge and assistance might be of benefit to you. Although I did not
sell my lands to Richardson or approve of his methods," he continued, "I
fear it was some suggestion of mine that eventually induced him to form
the larger and more disastrous scheme that ruined the Bank. So you see,"
he added lightly, "I claim a right to offer you my services." Touched
by Bradley's sincerity and discreet intelligence, Sir Robert was equally
frank. During the recital of his Californian investments--a chronicle
of almost fatuous speculation and imbecile enterprise--Bradley was
profoundly moved at the naive ignorance of business and hopeless
ingenuousness of this old habitue of a cynical world and an intriguing
and insincere society, to whom no scheme had been too wild for
acceptance.


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