"Is there any change since the morning? I am coming in at seven o'clock. What is it?"
"No; Salome is just the same. I am come, Uncle Loftus, to tell you how ashamed I am of myself. I daresay you will cut me for ever, but I am so miserable that I hope you won't be hard on me."
He did indeed look miserable; it was difficult to recognize him for the self-sufficient, handsome young man whom Dr. Wilton had often felt too provoked with to speak patiently to him.
The whole sad story was told. It was a step in the right direction; it was a hopeful sign; and Dr. Wilton felt it to be so.
"I don't think I shall ever get straight in Harstone, Uncle Loftus. If I could go away and begin fresh."
"Your debts must be paid. I must consult the other guardians and trustees. Perhaps there may be some arrangement. But, Raymond my boy, change of place won't effect a cure in itself. Only yesterday Warde told me he did not wish to keep you in the office; he did not care to treat you harshly, for your father's sake, but he says you simply do nothing, and it is a bad example to the other clerks. It is very sad, Raymond; you ought to have been a comfort to your poor mother and sister."
Raymond faltered out, "I will do anything you think best now, Uncle Loftus. Do you think Salome will get well?"
"I cannot say, my boy. Such cases do sometimes pull through; but the poor child is very ill—dangerously ill. I am going to take Mr. Masters to see her this evening. Still we must keep up heart and hope. Come and see your brothers and your Aunt Anna and your cousins."
"No, thanks, not now," Raymond said; "I must go back."
As Raymond was going towards Elm Fields he met one of those idle young men whose society had been so unwholesome for him.