"Good to me! Well;—he liked my being there. Poor papa! It had gone so far with him that he could not be good to any one. I think that he felt that it would be unmanly not to be the same to the end."
"He would not see Percival."
"When it was suggested he would only ask what good Percival could do him. I did send for him at last, in my terror, but he did not see his father alive. When he did come he only told me how badly his father had treated him! It was very dreadful!"
"I did so feel for you."
"I am sure you did, and will. After all, Frank, I think that the pious godly people have the best of it in this world. Let them be ever so covetous, ever so false, ever so hard-hearted, the mere fact that they must keep up appearances, makes them comfortable to those around them. Poor papa was not comfortable to me. A little hypocrisy, a little sacrifice to the feelings of the world, may be such a blessing."
"I am sorry that you should feel it so."
"Yes; it is sad. But you;—everything is smiling with you! Let us talk about your plans."
"Another time will do for that. I had come to hear about your own affairs."
"There they are," she said, pointing round the room. "I have no other affairs. You see that I am going from here."
"And where are you going?" She shook her head. "With whom will you live?"