“Oh, how wrong you are, how totally wrong! You know very little about him who would have been my chief adviser and Grand Vizier.”
“And who, pray, would have been so fortunate as to fill that post?”
“The son of that old lady to whom you devoted so many mornings,—the playfellow of long ago, Tony Butler.”
“Indeed, I only made his acquaintance yesterday, and it would be rash to speak on such a short experience; but I may be permitted to ask, has he that store of resources which enliven solitude? is he so full of life's experiences that he can afford to retire from the world and live on the interest of his knowledge of mankind?”
“He knows nothing whatever of what is called life,—at least what Mr. Maitland would call life. He is the most simple-hearted young fellow in the world, with the finest nature, and the most generous.”
“What would I not give for a friend who would grow so enthusiastic about me!”
“Are you so sure you 'd deserve it?”
“If I did, there would be no merit in the praise. Credit means trust for what one may or may not have.”
“Well, I am speaking of Tony as I know him; and, true to the adage, there he is, coming down the hill. Pull up, George.”
“Mr. Butler's making me a sign, ma'am, not to stop till I reach the top of the hill.”