With all reverence, I must say the great man reminded me of nothing so much as of a dog, that has to face his master with a stolen joint of meat on his conscience. In vain did Sir Julius strut and frown and try to look big and impressive. He was cowed under his sister's gray eyes and black brows, and looked as though he expected every moment to be taken across the old lady's knee and disciplined with her slipper.
He took on an elevated tone of reproof toward me at first, and talked of ingratitude and the expense he had been put to on my account; but he came down from his high horse rather suddenly when Mrs. Deborah remarked, drily, that my father's rents must have a good deal more than paid all the cost of my education, and that no doubt he would be ready to account for the surplus, when called upon to do so.
"And pray, Sister Deborah, who is to call me to any such account?"
"Perhaps Lucy herself, when she comes of age, or possibly Mr. Carey, her trustee, under her uncle's will."
This was news to Sir Julius; he eagerly inquired what his sister meant, and received an account of Mr. Andrew Corbet's will. He asked to see the letter, and I showed it to him.
"And you must take just this time to quarrel with my lady!" said he, irritably. "Why could not you let her say her say, and keep quiet?"
"Because she would not let me!" I answered. "I have ever treated her with respect as you know, but when she came to require of me to be downright false to myself and treacherous to Amabel—"
"Oh, false and treacherous!" he broke in peevishly, repeating my words. "Could you not temporise a little? But you and Amabel have got your heads full of Methodistical notions, and you are wiser in your own conceits than ten men that can render a reason."
"They might be that, and not be absolute Solomons, were the reason no better than some men's!" said Mrs. Deborah, drily.
"And I had such a good match for you, and have pledged my word to Bulmer that you should marry Dangerfield—and what am I to say to him?"