The tears were almost girl-like, and Felix's comfort was in the tone that suited them. 'Indeed, Lance, you may be doing him more good than you know. I thank you with all my heart; you are a much more real help and comfort to us all than you guess.'
'That's what you say to Cherry!' said Lance, impatiently. 'Now I can be real help, if you would only let me, and then Bernard could go out of the way of these fellows.'
'That he shall do, if I have to dip into the Chester legacy again.'
'Better take my way,' said Lance, reviving; 'a young man with good references only wants board and lodging.'
'It is not possible, Lance. It would not be respectful to the Bishop or the Dean, who have strained a point to keep you. There—I hear Mr. Kenyon's voice in the shop. I must go.'
'Only one thing, Felix. Will you hear what Jack Harewood says to it?'
To this Felix readily assented. He was hurried and harassed nearly to the extent of his time and capacity; he could not pause to give full consideration to his young brother's project, and was glad that the ungracious task of silencing it should be imposed on one less immediately interested.
John Harewood was always at Wilmet's side after four o'clock. Before that time he sometimes went to his home; he often spent the afternoon with Geraldine, but he was not usually about the house in the morning. So Lance, in a fever of impatience, wandered till he hunted him down writing letters in the coffee-room at the Fortinbras Arms.
'Jack, I say, come and have a walk.'
'Pleasant weather!'