"Did she happen to mention a person named Gwynn, a housekeeper in her service?"
"No."
"I'm glad she is an affable old lady; we shall be sure to hear something useful," said the old gentleman, with an odd smile. "That housekeeper I must see and sift. They tell me she's impracticable; they found her so. I shall see. While you live, Guy, do your own business; no one else will do it, be sure. I did mine, and I've got on."
The old gentleman, who was declaiming before the looking-glass in his shirt-sleeves and crimson silk suspenders, brushing up that pyramid of grizzled hair which added to the solemnity of his effect, now got into his black silk waistcoat. The dressing-bell had rung, and the candles had superseded daylight.
"You'll observe all I told you, Guy. Sir Jekyl shan't marry—he would grow what they call impracticable, like Madame Gwynn; Miss Beatrix, she shan't marry either—it would make, perhaps, new difficulties; and you, I may as well tell you, can't marry her. When you know the reasons you will see that such an event could not be contemplated. You understand?"
And he dropped his haircomb, with which he had been bestowing a last finish on his spire of hair, upon his dressing-table, with a slight emphasis.
"Therefore, Guy, you will understand you must not be a fool about that young lady; there are many others to speak to; and if you allow yourself to like her, you will be a miserable stripling till you forget her."
"There is no need, sir, to warn me; I have resolved to avoid any such feeling. I have sense enough to see that there are obstacles insurmountable to my ever cherishing that ambition, and that I never could be regarded as worthy."
"Bravo! young man, that is what I like; you are as modest as the devil; and here, I can tell you, modesty, which is so often silly, is as wise as the serpent. You understand?"
The large-chested gentleman was now getting into his capacious coat, having buttoned his jewelled wrist-studs in; so he contemplated himself in the glass, with a touch and a pluck here and there.