"I was told long ago that when blindness seized me, it would be irretrievable. I was warned of its approach by an eminent man, who was not likely to make a mistake."
"We are all liable to mistakes in life," said Maurice, "and it might happen——"
"Pray dismiss the subject, Maurice."
"I met with a foreign oculist in Paris—he was an Italian, I think—who——"
"Good night—good night," said Sidney, hastily; "when a man has been trying hard to teach himself resignation, it is not fair to disturb him with ideas like these."
"Your pardon, Sid—I am going at once. Good night."
"Good night."
Sidney did not extend his hand again, and Maurice made no attempt to part in a more friendly manner than they had met; profuse civilities could do no good, and though Maurice had gained his cousin's forgiveness, he had not roused his respect, or won upon his sympathy.
He passed into the shop, and took up his hat that he had left there on the counter. Mr. Gray looked at him, as at a fine subject which adverse fate was to snatch away from his experiments.
"You are going, young man?"