"Doctor," he began again, "I believe you are an honest fellow; I do indeed."
Dr Thorne could not but thank him for his good opinion.
"You ain't annoyed at what I said this morning, are you?"
The doctor had forgotten the particular annoyance to which Sir Louis alluded; and informed him that his mind might be at rest on any such matter.
"I do believe you'd be glad to see me well; wouldn't you, now?"
The doctor assured him that such was in very truth the case.
"Well, now, I'll tell you what: I've been thinking about it a great deal to-day; indeed, I have, and I want to do what's right. Mightn't I have a little drop more of that stuff, just in a cup of coffee?"
The doctor poured him out a cup of coffee, and put about a teaspoonful of brandy in it. Sir Louis took it with a disconsolate face, not having been accustomed to such measures in the use of his favourite beverage.
"I do wish to do what's right—I do, indeed; only, you see, I'm so lonely. As to those fellows up in London, I don't think that one of them cares a straw about me."
Dr Thorne was of the same way of thinking, and he said so. He could not but feel some sympathy with the unfortunate man as he thus spoke of his own lot. It was true that he had been thrown on the world without any one to take care of him.