“I don’t want any revenge, indeed,” said Oliver, “for I’m never happy when I’ve quarrelled with any body: and even when people quarrel with me, I don’t feel quite sure that I’m in the right, which makes me uncomfortable; and, besides, I don’t want to find out that they are quite in the wrong; and that makes me uncomfortable the other way. After all, quarrelling and bearing malice are very disagreeable things, somehow or other. Don’t you, when you have made it up with people, and shaken hands, Holloway—don’t you feel quite light, and ready to jump again? So shake hands, if you are not above shaking hands with such a little boy as I am; and I shall never think again about the sweetmeats, or old fag times.”
Holloway could not help feeling touched. “Here’s my hand,” cried he, “I’m sorry I’ve tormented you so often; I’ll never plague you any more. But now—I don’t know what upon earth to do. Where’s Charles Howard? If he can’t help me, I’m undone. I have got into more scrapes than I can get out of, I know. I wish I could see Howard.”
“I’ll run and bring him to you; he’s the best person at knowing what should be done—at least for me, I know—that ever I saw.”
Holloway abruptly began, as soon as Howard came up to him: “Howard,” said he, “you know this plaguy lottery business—but you don’t know half yet: here’s Carat come to be paid for his tickets; and here’s that dunning stage-coachman sticks close to me for his five guineas; and not one farthing have I upon earth.”
“Not a farthing! but you don’t mean that you have not the money for Mr. Carat?”
“But I do though.”
“Why, you cannot have spent it since yesterday morning?”
“No; but I have lost half and lent half; and the half that I have lent is gone for ever, I am afraid, as much as that which I lost.”
“Whom did you lend the money to? How did you lose it?”
“I lost part to Sir John O’Shannon, last night, at billiards—more fool I to play, only because I wanted to cut a figure amongst those fine people at Marryborough. I wonder my father lets me go there; I know I sha’n’t go back there this Easter, unless Lord Rawson makes me an apology, I can tell him. I’ve as good a right to be upon my high horse as he has; for though his father’s an earl, my father’s a great deal richer, I know; and has lent him a great deal of money, too, and that’s the only reason he’s civil to us; but I can tell him—”