“Oh! George, don’t be too hard on him. He was sorely tempted, and he is so young.”
“Am I hard on him, Rose? Am I saying anything?”
“George, dear brother, I wish I could help you.”
“You can’t; I’m off to bed now.”
“George, you will keep this from my father?”
“Rather!”
“You will manage that he shall not see Mr Chillingfleet?”
“I will manage that he never hears the story you have told me to-night. Good-night, Rose.”
“Kiss me, George. Oh! George, I’m bitterly sorry for you.”
I ran after him and flung my arms round his neck, and gave him what we used in the old childish days to call a bear’s hug.