"But you inherit a good deal of the suspicious cautious character of your father. When you grow old, I believe that you will be just as fond of money as he is. Did he offer to advance a sufficient sum to settle you in life?"
"No, he did not."
"Astonishing! What excuse can he give for such unreasonable conduct?"
"The old one, I suppose," said Colonel Hurdlestone, laughing—"poverty."
"Ha! ha! ha!" reiterated Godfrey.
"Godfrey!" said Anthony, with much severity of look and tone: "how can such a lamentable instance of human weakness (madness, I might say) awaken your mirth?"
"Is it not enough to make one laugh, when an old fellow, rich enough to pay the National Debt, refuses to provide for his only son, and suffers him to live upon the charity of a brother?"
This unexpected though oft-repeated insult was too much for Anthony to bear at such a moment, and in the presence of the woman he loved. The proud flash of his dark eye told how deeply his gentle nature was moved. His indignation did not escape the watchful eye of Juliet; but he mastered his passion, and answered his cousin in a calm low voice.
"Godfrey, I understand you. You need say no more on that subject. You know how painfully alive I am to the obligations I owe to my uncle, and it is ungenerous to take such an opportunity of reminding me of them. The debt, I hope, will one day be repaid."
He rose to take leave. A pleading look from Juliet made him abandon his intention. "Sit down," said Juliet, in a persuasive voice, "I am sure your cousin meant no offence. Delicacy of mind," she added, in a very low tone, meant only for his ear, "is not always an inherent quality; we should pity and forgive those who are destitute of it."