Her poor heart was throbbing fitfully. "But--but why, papa?"
The Vicar told her why. Of the billiards at the Rose and Crown, and the high play at The Lilacs. "There were other things," he added, "which he should not speak of--meaning, of course, the Doctor's gold snuff-box, and his own purse.
"It seems to me that he must be becoming a practised gambler, Maria," wound up Mr. Kettle, "playing as he does with rich men like Camberley and Lennox. They can afford it; Philip can't. Putting all that aside, he is not progressing in his profession; so what likelihood is there of his making a home to take a wife to?"
"Mr. Tiplady has some intention of taking him into partnership; Philip told me so."
"I take it that Tiplady is far too shrewd a man to do anything of the kind."
Maria sighed. "We may be misjudging him, papa."
"We are not misjudging him. Don't I tell you there are other reasons why you should have nothing more to do with Philip?--matters which I do not choose to speak of openly."
"It seems rather hard, papa, that I should be asked to condemn Philip without knowing what he has done."
"Good gracious, Maria! have I not given you reasons enough? Could he become your husband without a radical alteration in his mode of life? As for the other matters I hinted at, the less said about them, at present, the better. I hope with all my heart that things may not turn out so bad as they seem."
"Then all Philip's promises to me before I went away have proved of no avail," mourned Maria to herself. "He still goes to The Lilacs, he still frequents the billiard-room. Why has he not more strength of mind? And what are those mysterious hints which papa threw out of something still worse? Oh, Philip, Philip!"