Graeme thought him wonderfully improved, and made no secret of her pride and delight in him. Arthur thought him improved too, but he shocked his sister dreadfully, by professing to see in him indications of character, that suggested a future resemblance to their respected friend, Mr Elias Green, in more than in success.
“He is rather too devoted to business, too indifferent to the claims of society, and to the pursuits of the young swells of the day, to be natural, I am afraid. But it will pay. In the course of fifteen or twenty years, we shall have him building a ‘palatial residence’, and boring himself and other people, like our respected friend. You seem to be a little discontented with the prospect, Graeme.”
“Discontented!” echoed Graeme. “It is with you, that I am discontented. How can you speak of anything so horrible? You don’t know Harry.”
“I know what the result of such entire devotion to business must be, joined to such talents as Harry’s. Success, of course, and a measure of satisfaction with it, more or less, as the case maybe. No, you need not look at Harry’s friend and partner. He is ‘tarred with the same stick,’ as Mrs Snow would say.”
Harry’s friend and partner, laughed.
“Mrs Snow would never say that about Mr Millar,” said Graeme indignantly, “nor about Harry either; and neither of them will come to a fate like that.”
“They may fail, or they may marry. I was only speaking of the natural consequences of the present state of affairs, should nothing intervene to prevent such a conclusion.”
“Harry will never grow to be like Mr Green,” said Fanny, gravely. “Graeme will not let him.”
“There is something in that,” said Arthur.
“There is a great deal in that,” said Mr Millar.