“You seem to think,” retorted the doctor, “that everybody is disposed to be hard-hearted today, except yourself, Miss Rose. I only hope, for the sake of the rising male sex generally, that you may be found in as vulnerable and softhearted a mood by the first eligible young fellow who appeals to your compassion; and I wish I were a young fellow, that I might avail myself, on the spot, of such a favourable opportunity for doing so, as the present.”
“You are as great a boy as poor Brittles himself,” returned Rose, blushing.
“Well,” said the doctor, laughing heartily, “that is no very difficult matter. But to return to this boy. The great point of our agreement is yet to come. He will wake in an hour or so, I dare say; and although I have told that thickheaded constable-fellow downstairs that he musn’t be moved or spoken to, on peril of his life, I think we may converse with him without danger. Now I make this stipulation—that I shall examine him in your presence, and that, if, from what he says, we judge, and I can show to the satisfaction of your cool reason, that he is a real and thorough bad one (which is more than possible), he shall be left to his fate, without any farther interference on my part, at all events.”
“Oh no, aunt!” entreated Rose.
“Oh yes, aunt!” said the doctor. “Is it a bargain?”
“He cannot be hardened in vice,” said Rose; “It is impossible.”
“Very good,” retorted the doctor; “then so much the more reason for acceding to my proposition.”
Finally the treaty was entered into; and the parties thereunto sat down to wait, with some impatience, until Oliver should awake.
The patience of the two ladies was destined to undergo a longer trial than Mr. Losberne had led them to expect; for hour after hour passed