"No; but it is her misfortune."
"Then you won't make an effort to set things straight between the two cousins?"
"I really would rather not, my dear Tincroft," said Mr. Richard.
John did not succeed much better in his interview with his clerical friend Mr. Rubric, upon whom he presently called.
Mr. Rubric received the collegian graciously, and would have set lunch before him, if John had not already undergone and duly performed that operation. But he had not much to say in praise of our hero's amiable quixotism.
"Let the matter rest, Mr. Tincroft; you will do no good," said he. "Of course," he added, "I look upon such engagements as being very serious and solemn; and I did what I could to make things straight when young Wilson honoured me with his confidence. But he is an obstinate young man, I am afraid. At least, I could make no impression upon him. And perhaps, after all, it is best as it is, Mr. Tincroft. And let me tell you, my dear friend—" this was spoken in a soft, confidential tone, "that your interference will be interpreted—shall I say?—interpreted unfavourably against yourself. Just consider, Mr. Tincroft."
"Mr. Rubric—" said John, not without dignity, for there is dignity in holiest feeling and intentions, and in taking an honest course, even if the honesty be clumsy, "will you, if you have it in your power, kindly let me know Mr. Walter Wilson's address?"
Mr. Rubric could and did give the address. "But you won't write to him, will you?"
"No, sir; I will go and see him," said John.
The rector looked aghast. "My very good friend, don't think of such a thing," said he. "You don't know what a strong feeling there is against you in that quarter. Why, you will be eaten up alive! Absolutely rushing to the lion's mouth!"