These gentlemen
thought well of the young lady's prospects, and were handling the case in
that slow and stately manner which marks the handling of such cases by
eminent firms of the slow-and-stately class.
Mr. Sheldon wished his brother good-day, and was about to depart, when
George planted himself suddenly before the door.
"Look you here, Phil," he said, with an intensity of manner that was by
no means common to him; "I want to say a few words to you, and I will say
them. There was an occasion, ten years ago, on which I ought to have
spoken out, and didn't. I have never ceased to regret my cowardice. Yes,
by Jove! I hate myself for it; and there are times when I feel as if my
share in that wretched business was almost as bad as yours."
"I don't know what you mean."
"Of course not. That's your text, and you'll stick to it. But you _do_
know what I mean, and you shall know what I mean, if plain words can tell
you. You and I had a friend, Phil. He was a good friend to me, and I
liked him as much as a man of the world can afford to like anybody. If I
had been down in the world, and had asked him for a hundred pounds to
give me a new start in life, I think he'd have said, 'George, here's a
cheque for you.' _That's_ my notion of a friend. And yet I stood by that
man's deathbed, and saw him sinking, and knew what ailed him, and didn't
stretch out my hand to save him.
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