“My head not cool!” said Rowan. “It’s as cool as a cucumber. I wasn’t drinking last night.”
“I thought you might be tired with the dancing.” Then Tappitt’s mind flew off to the champagne, and he determined that the young man before him was too disagreeable to be endured.
“Oh, dear, no. Those things never tire me. I was across here with the men before eight this morning. Do you know, I’m sure we could save a third of the fuel by altering the flues. I never saw such contrivances. They must have been put in by the coal-merchants, for the sake of wasting coal.”
“If you please, we won’t mind the flues at present.”
“I only tell you; it’s for your sake much more than my own. If you won’t believe me, do you ask Newman to look at them the first time you see him in Baslehurst.”
“I don’t care a straw for Newman.”
“He’s got the best concerns in Devonshire, and knows what he’s about better than any man in these parts.”
“I dare say. But now, if you please, we won’t mind him. The concerns, as I have managed them, have done very well for me for the last thirty years;—very well I may say also for your uncle, who understood what he was doing. I’m not very keen for so many changes. They cost a great deal of money, and as far as I can see don’t often lead to much profit.”
“If we don’t go on with the world,” said Rowan, “the world will leave us behind. Look at the new machinery they’re introducing everywhere. People don’t do it because they like to spend their money. It’s competition; and there’s competition in beer as well as in other things.”
For a minute or two Mr. Tappitt sat in silence collecting his thoughts, and then he began his speech. “I’ll tell you what it is, Rowan, I don’t like these newfangled ways. They’re very well for you, I dare say. You are young, and perhaps you may see your way. I’m old, and I don’t see mine among all these changes. It’s clear to me that you and I could not go on together as partners in the same concern. I should expect to have my own way—first because I’ve a deal of experience, and next because my share in the concern would be so much the greatest.”
“Stop a moment, Mr. Tappitt; I’m not quite sure that it would be much the greatest. I don’t want to say anything about that now; only if I were to let your remark pass without notice it would seem that I had assented.”
“Ah; very well. I can only say that I hope you’ll find yourself mistaken. I’ve been over thirty years in the concern, and it would be odd if I with my large family were to find myself only equal to you, who have never been in the business at all, and ain’t even married yet.”
“I don’t see what being married has to do with it.”
“Don’t you? You’ll find that’s the way we look at these things down in these parts. You’re not in London here, Mr. Rowan.”
“Certainly not; but I suppose the laws are the same. This is an affair of capital.”
“Capital!” said Mr. Tappitt. “I don’t know that you’ve brought in any capital.”
“Bungall did, and I’m here as his representative. But you’d better let that pass by just at present. If we can agree as to the management of the business, you won’t find me a hard man to deal with as to our relative shares.” Hereupon Tappitt scratched his head, and tried to think. “But I don’t see how we are to agree about the management,” he continued. “You won’t be led by anybody.”
“I don’t know about that. I certainly want to improve the concern.”
“Ah, yes; and so ruin it. Whereas I’ve been making money out of it these thirty years. You and I won’t do together; that’s the long of it and the short of it.”
“It would be a putting of new wine into old bottles, you think?” suggested Rowan.
“I’m not saying anything about wine; but I do think that I ought to know something about beer.”
“And I’m to understand,” said Rowan, “that you have definitively determined not to carry on the old concern in conjunction with me as your partner.”
“Yes; I think I have.”
“But it will be as well to be sure. One can’t allow one’s self to depend upon thinking.”
“Well, I am sure; I’ve made up my mind. I’ve no doubt you’re a very clever young man, but I am quite sure we should not do together; and to tell you the truth, Rowan, I don’t think you’ll ever make your fortune by brewing.”
“You think not?”
“No; never.”
“I’m sorry for that.”
“I don’t know that you need be sorry. You’ll have a nice income for a single man to begin the world with, and there’s other businesses besides brewing—and a deal better.”
“Ah! But I’ve made up my mind to be a brewer. I like it. There’s opportunity for chemical experiments, and room for philosophical inquiry, which gives the trade a charm in my eyes. I dare say it seems odd to you, but I like being a brewer.”
Tappitt only scratched his head, and stared at him. “I do indeed,” continued Rowan. “Now a man can’t do anything to improve his own trade as a lawyer. A great deal will be done; but I’ve made up my mind that all that must come from the outside. All trades want improving; but I like a trade in which I can do the improvements myself—from the inside. Do you understand me, Mr. Tappitt?” Mr. Tappitt did
