“No,” said Leigh, smiling; “you are not cut out for a doctor.”
“I don’t think I am cut out for anything, Leigh, and things look very black. I can farm, and of course if the guv’nor hadn’t smashed I could have gone on all right. But it’s heart-breaking, Leigh; it is, upon my soul. I haven’t been home for weeks. Been along with an old aunt.”
“Why, you oughtn’t to leave a sinking ship, my lad.”
“Well, I know that,” said Claud, savagely; “and that’s why I’ve come here.”
“Why you’ve come here?” said Leigh, staring.
“Yes; don’t pretend that you can’t understand.”
“There is no pretence. Explain yourself.”
Claud Wilton had only just lit his pipe, but he tapped it empty on the bars, and sat gazing straight before him.
“I want to do the square thing,” he said; “but I’m such an impulsive beggar, and I can’t trust myself. I want you to send for your sister home; Kate’s all right again; mother told me so in a letter; and she has got her lawyer down there, and is transacting business. Look here, Leigh: it isn’t right for me to be down there when your sister’s at the Manor. I can’t see a shilling ahead now, and it isn’t fair to her.”
Leigh looked at him keenly.