“I must ask someone’s advice,” he murmured. “I cannot bear the trouble all alone and unsupported. I will tell Leonard everything.”
Leonard sprang to his feet, astonished at this extraordinary exhibition of despair.
“My dear uncle Christopher!” he exclaimed, “what does this mean? What has happened?”
The unhappy man, anxious to take counsel, yet shrinking from confession, groaned in reply.
“Has anything happened at home? My aunt? My cousins?”
“Worse—worse. It has happened to me.”
“Well.... But what has happened? Man, don’t sit groaning there. Lift up your head and tell me what has happened.”
“Ruin,” he replied—“social ruin and disgrace. That is all. That is all.”
“Then, you are the second member of our truly fortunate family who has been ruined this very day. Perhaps,” Leonard added coldly, “it might be as well if you could let me know what form your ruin has taken.”
“Social ruin and disgrace. That is all. I shall never be able to look anyone in the face any more.”