“I declare I’m much weaker than a child,” said the doctor to himself; and the subject was the next moment introduced by the Reverend Arthur, who, with a guilty aspect and look askant, both misinterpreted by the doctor, said, hesitatingly:
“Do you know for certain when you go away, Harry?”
“In three weeks, my boy, or a month at most, and there is no time to lose in foolish hesitation, is there?”
“No, of course not. You mean about the subject Mary named?”
“Yes, yes, of course,” cried the doctor, who was now very hot and excited. “You wouldn’t raise any objection, Arthur?”
“No, I think not, Harry. It would be a terrible loss to me.”
“It would—it would.”
“And I should feel it bitterly at first.”
“Of course—of course,” said the doctor, trying to speak; but his friend went on excitedly.
“Time back I could not have understood it; but I am not surprised now!”