"Oh! don't speak ill of them, Maurice; you do not know them, and cannot estimate them at their just worth."
"I might endure the daughter, for hers is a pleasant sharpness that one doesn't object to; but, oh! that dreadful vigorous little parson, or whatever he is."
"Good night," said Sidney, meaningly.
"One moment—I'm off in a minute now, Sid. There's one thing I did wish just to allude to—nothing about money, mind," he added hastily, noticing Sidney's heightened colour and proud face, and remembering Mattie's previous caution.
"What is it?" asked Sidney.
"I did wish to say how sorry I was to hear of the calamity, that had befallen you—that the bad news, which was told me to-day for the first time, has shocked me very much. But you'll not believe me—you still think I'm hard, cruel, and indifferent."
"No, I don't think that. But I don't care to dwell upon a painful topic."
"And about advice—what medical advice have you had, may I ask?"
"Not any."
"No advice!—why not?"