"I am not speaking literally. Every good and pleasing thing that money can purchase is at your command. You have only to enjoy them, so far as you may. One, suffering as you do, bears not upon him the responsibility to use his time, that a healthy man does. Lots, in this world, Henry, are, as I believe, pretty equally balanced. Many would envy you your life of calm repose."
"It is not calm," was the abrupt rejoinder. "It is disturbed by pain, and aggravated by temper; and—and—tormented by uncertainty."
"At any rate, you can subdue the one."
"Which, pray?"
"The temper. Henry"—dropping his voice—"a victory over your own temper may be one of the few obligations laid upon you."
"I wish I could live for an object," grumbled Henry.
"Come round with me to East's, sometimes."
"I—daresay!" retorted Henry, when he could recover from his amazement. "Thank you again, Mr. Halliburton."
William laughed. But he soon resumed his seriousness. "I can understand that for you, the favoured son of Mr. Ashley, reared in refinement and exclusiveness——"
"Enshrined in pride—the failing that Helstonleigh is pleased to call my besetting sin; sheltered under care and coddling so great that the very winds of heaven are not suffered to visit my face too roughly!" was the impetuous interruption of Henry Ashley. "Come! bring it all out. Don't, from motives of delicacy, keep in any of my faults, virtues, or advantages!"