“If I thought—”
“Of course you 'd put it in the fire,” said she, finishing his speech; “and I'd have put it there though it should contain something exactly the reverse of all this.”
“The doctor told me that Bramleigh said something about a reparation that he owed me; and although the phrase, coming from a man in his state, might mean nothing, or next to nothing, it still keeps recurring to my mind, and suggesting an eager desire to know what he could point to.”
“Perhaps his conscience pricked him, George, for not having made more of you while here. I 'd almost say it might with some justice.”
“I think they have shown us great attention—have been most hospitable and courteous to us.”
“I 'm not a fair witness, for I have no sort of gratitude for social civilities. I think it's always the host is the obliged person.”
“I know you do,” said he, smiling.
“Who knows,” said she, warmly, “if he has not found out that the 'young fellow the boys were so fond of' was worthy of favor in higher quarters? Eh, George, might not this give the clew to the reparation he speaks of?”
“I can make nothing of it,” said he, as he tossed the letter on the table with an impatient movement. “I 'll tell you what I 'll do, Julia,” cried he, after a pause. “I'll take the letter over to Castello to-morrow, and ask Augustus if he feels at liberty to read it to me; if he opine not, I 'll get him to seal it then and there.”
“But suppose he consents to read it, and suppose it should contain something, I 'll not say offensive, but something disagreeable, something that you certainly would not wish to have said; will you be satisfied at being the listener while he reads it?”