"But it could be no pleasure to him to ruin Mr. Etherage!"
"I'm not so sure of that; between ourselves, forgiving is not one of his weaknesses."
"But I say it's quite impossible—an old family, and liked in the county—it would be a scandal for ever!" pleaded Tom Sedley, distractedly.
"Not worse than that business of Booth Fanshawe," said Cleve, looking down; "no, he never forgives anything. I don't think he perceives he's taking a revenge; he has not mind enough for repentance," said Cleve, who was not in good humour with his uncle just then.
"Won't you try? you're such an eloquent fellow, and there's really so much to be said."
"I do assure you, there's no more use than in talking to the chimney-piece; if you make a point of it, of course, I will; but, by Jove, you could hardly choose a worse advocate just now, for he's teasing me to do what I can't do. If you heard my miserable story, it would make you laugh; it's like a thing in a petite comédie, and it's breaking my heart."
"Well, then, you'll try—won't you try?" said Tom, overlooking his friend's description of his own troubles.
"Yes; as you desire it, I'll try; but I don't expect the slightest good from it, and possibly some mischief," he replied.
"A thousand thanks, my dear Cleve; I'm going down to-night. Would it be too much to ask you for a line, or, if it's good news, a telegram to Llwynan."
"I may safely promise you that, I'm sorry to say, without risk of trouble. You mustn't think me unkind, but it would be cruel to let you hope when there is not, really, a chance."