"And what are the sisters like?"
"They are like their mother, vain and affected, only without her cleverness. They feel bitterly their position at Fairclose, and make matters worse by their querulous complainings. I never go into the house unless I am sent for professionally, for their peevishness and bad temper are intolerable. If things had gone differently, and they had made good marriages, they might have turned out pleasant girls enough. As it is they are as utterly disagreeable as any young women I ever came across."
"Then Brander must have a very bad time of it."
"Yes, but from what I have seen when I have been there I don't thing they show off before him much. I fancy Brander's temper has not improved of late. Of course, in public, he is the same as ever, but I think he lets himself loose at home, and I should say that the girls are thoroughly afraid of him. I have noticed anyhow that when he is at home when I call, they are on their best behavior, and there is not a word of any unpleasantness or discontent from their lips. However, I suppose the feeling against Brander will die out in time. I think it was unjust, though I don't say it was not quite natural, but when the soreness wears off a bit, people will begin to think they have been rather hard on Brander. There's the surgery bell, now I must leave you to your own devices."
At half-past eleven James Harford called, and Cuthbert at once went out with him, and they walked towards Mr. Brander's office, which was but a couple of hundred yards away.
"How do you do, Mr. Levison?" Cuthbert asked as he entered. "Is Mr. Brander alone?"
"Yes, he is alone, Mr. Hartington. I am glad to see you again, sir."
With a nod Cuthbert walked to the door of the inner office, opened it, and went in. Mr. Brander started, half rose from his chair with the exclamation—
"My dear——!" then he stopped.
There was something in the expression of Cuthbert's face that checked the words on his lips.