I must see Mr.Smith on private business, and instantly.' 'He is particularly engaged.' 'I know it, and, therefore, I must see him.

Take in my card, and he will not refuse me.' A new vista had opened itself before him.
He was ushered into a private room: and, as he waited for the banker, he breathed a prayer.

For what?
That his own will might be done--a very common style of petition.
Mr.Smith entered, hurried and troubled.

He caught the vicar eagerly by the hand, as if glad to see a face which did not glare on him with the cold selfish stamp of 'business,' and then drew back again, afraid to commit himself by any sign of emotion.
The vicar had settled his plan of attack, and determined boldly to show his knowledge of the banker's distress.
'I am very sorry to trouble you at such an unfortunate moment, sir, and I will be brief; but, as your nephew's spiritual pastor--' (He knew the banker was a stout Churchman.) 'What of my nephew, sir! No fresh misfortunes, I hope ?' 'Not so much misfortune, sir, as misconduct--I might say frailty-- but frailty which may become ruinous.' 'How?
how?
Some mesalliance ?' interrupted Mr.Smith, in a peevish, excited tone.

'I thought there was some heiress on the tapis--at least, so I heard from my unfortunate son, who has just gone over to Rome.