“Greatly broken, sir. No sleep o' nights without opium, and no real rest even with that.”
“And his spirits?”
“Broken too, sir. He's not what you remember him, sir, nor anything like it. No pleasant joke, sir, when anything goes amiss, as it used to be; no turning it off with a merry laugh! He 's fretful and impatient about the merest trifles, and he that never wanted attendance is now always complaining that he 's neglected, and deserted and forsaken by all the world.”
“Does the Captain come often to see and sit with him?”
“Every day, sir; but these visits do rather harm than good. Sir Stafford is vexed at what goes on in the house; and Master George, I don't know how it is, but he don't calm him down, and they have oftentimes angry words together; not but my master is frequently in the wrong, and taxes the young gentleman with what he can't help; for you see, sir, my Lady—”
“D—n! I mean, tell me about Sir Stafford; it is of him I want to hear. Does he read?”
“He makes me read to him every day, sir, all about the money-market and railroad shares; sometimes twice over, indeed; and when I ask if he would n't like to hear about what goes on in politics, he always says, 'No, Proctor, let's have the City article again.'”
“And his letters does n't he read them?”
“The Captain reads them for him, sir; and now and then writes the answers, for he can't hold a pen himself! Oh, you 'll not know him when you see him! He that was so large and fine a man, I lift him in and out of bed as if he were a baby.”
“Has he no acquaintance here?”