"An injury to that young person! I beg your pardon, Mr. Rubric; but what could make you think of such a thing?"
"You are doing her an injury, without intending it," said the rector, gravely.
And then he went on to tell (what John already knew) of Sarah Wilson's unhappy home, of her engagement with her cousin, and of the opposition to this engagement on the part of the young man's friends. He also told (what John did not know) of the actual insolvency and prospective ruin of Mark Wilson.
"Nothing can save him," continued Mr. Rubric; "his unhappy vice has dragged him down, and will sink him still lower; and his wife too—for they are almost both alike. But the daughter may be saved, though it is the strong arm of a husband must do this. And, Mr. Tincroft, you cannot be that husband."
"No, sir; no, no, no; of course not," exclaimed John, turning hot, as the plain speaking of the rector opened a way into his dull comprehension. "Of course not," said he, nervously.
"Quite right, Mr. Tincroft; and you understand me now, I am sure," said the parson. "And now if you are coming my way, and will step in with me—"
But John had other matters to think about.
