Colonel Ashley was silenced and repelled for a little while by this churlishness on the part of his interlocutor; but, speedily recollecting that it was his guest who had sought this interview, he inquired with some reserve of manner—
“Can I be so happy as to serve you in any way this morning, Mr. Sutherland?”
“Who recommended that young man whom you have engaged as a tutor?” asked Clement Sutherland, curtly.
Now, Colonel Ashley might well have been provoked by the abruptness of this question to make some unpleasant answer, but Colonel Ashley was a gentleman and a host. He replied with the utmost courtesy, yet in a manner that administered the keenest and most delicate rebuke. Looking at his guest, he said, slowly and with meaning, “His name recommended him, Mr. Sutherland.”
“That is just what I feared. That is the one thing, unhappily, of which we cannot deprive him, and makes us, in some degree, responsible for him. Pray, sir, did you know anything of this young man’s past history?”
“Nothing.”
“You fancied him a relative of ours?”
“Certainly.”
“Now, then, will you be so kind as to give me your attention for a few minutes?”
Colonel Ashley settled himself in an attitude of fixed interest, and Clement Sutherland commenced a narration of some considerable length, which, at its close, left Mark Sutherland with the character of a graceless son, a faithless lover, an unprincipled man, and a mad reformer.