“A good suggestion,” said Trevannion, laughing; “will you pay for me, Hamilton?”
“Willingly,” replied Hamilton, in a low, deep tone, “if, on inquiry, I find her good manners are the result of good feeling.”
“I am excessively indebted to you,” replied Trevannion, coloring; “and feel exceedingly honored by the solicitude of Ferrers' friend.”
“Just as you choose to feel it, Trevannion,” said Hamilton; “but I had better speak my mind, gentlemen,—I do not think we have, as a body, remembered the doctor's injunction.”
“How could we?” “Is it likely?” “No, indeed.” “I dare say!” “Very fine!” sounded on all sides.
“Hear me to the end,” said Hamilton; “I have not much to say.”
“Two speeches in one night!” said Jones. “Never was such condescension.”
Hamilton took no notice of the jeering remarks round him, but having obtained a little silence, continued—
“We have made enough of this business. It is cruel now to carry it on further. I confess myself to have felt as much repugnance as any one could feel, to renewing any thing beyond the barest possible intercourse with Ferrers; but let us consider, first, that it becomes us, while we are Dr. Wilkinson's pupils, to pay some respect to his wishes, whether they coincide with our feelings or not; and next, whether it is charitable to shut a school-fellow out of a chance of reformation. Let us put ourselves in his place.”
“A very desirable position; rather too much for imagination,” remarked Trevannion.