“Extremely clever. I really think he can do everything.”
“Ah! he would not have managed to break the ring of your parasol, as I have been so awkward as to do. But I will see about getting it mended to-morrow. If I were as clever as Mr Enderby now, I might be able to mend it myself.”
“You will not be able to get another ring in Deerbrook. But never mind. I beg you will not feel uncomfortable about it. I can fasten it with a loop of green ribbon and a button till the next time I go to Blickley. Pray do not feel uncomfortable.”
“How can I help it? You say there is no ring in Deerbrook. Not any sort of ring? My dear Miss Grey, if I cannot repair this sort of ring—”
Sophia was a good deal flurried. She begged he would think no more of the parasol; it was no manner of consequence.
“Do not be too good to me,” whispered he. “I trust. I know my duty better than to take you at your word. From my earliest years, my parents have instilled into me the duty of making reparation for the injuries we cause to others.”
Sophia gave him an affecting look of approbation, and asked with much interest where his parents lived, and how many brothers and sisters he had; and assured him, at last, that she saw he belonged to a charming family.
“It does not become me to speak proudly of such near relations,” said he; “and one who has so lately left the parental roof is, perhaps, scarcely to be trusted to be impartial; but I will say for my family that, though not perhaps so clever as Mrs Rowland and Mr Enderby—”
“Oh, for Heaven’s sake, do not name them together!”
Mr Walcot saw that he had broken the charm: he hastened to repair the mischief which one unhappy name had caused.