‘Mysteries of Udolpho!’ said Eugene, with a look of wonder. ‘May I be excused for asking, in the elderly gentleman’s presence, who is this kind protector?’
‘A trustworthy friend,’ said Lizzie.
‘I will relieve him of his trust,’ returned Eugene. ‘But you must tell me, Lizzie, what is the matter?’
‘Her brother is the matter,’ said the old man, lifting up his eyes again.
‘Our brother the matter?’ returned Eugene, with airy contempt. ‘Our brother is not worth a thought, far less a tear. What has our brother done?’
The old man lifted up his eyes again, with one grave look at Wrayburn, and one grave glance at Lizzie, as she stood looking down. Both were so full of meaning that even Eugene was checked in his light career, and subsided into a thoughtful ‘Humph!’
With an air of perfect patience the old man, remaining mute and keeping his eyes cast down, stood, retaining Lizzie’s arm, as though in his habit of passive endurance, it would be all one to him if he had stood there motionless all night.
‘If Mr Aaron,’ said Eugene, who soon found this fatiguing, ‘will be good enough to relinquish his charge to me, he will be quite free for any engagement he may have at the Synagogue. Mr Aaron, will you have the kindness?’
But the old man stood stock still.
‘Good evening, Mr Aaron,’ said Eugene, politely; ‘we need not detain you.’ Then turning to Lizzie, ‘Is our friend Mr Aaron a little deaf?’