might have foreseen the inferences that I should draw. Grant that he did foresee them; and even the cruelty to me—and who am I!—John Jasper, Music Master, vanishes!”—
Once more, Mr. Grewgious could not but assent to this.
“I have had my distrusts, and terrible distrusts they have been,” said Jasper; “but your disclosure, overpowering as it was at first—showing me that my own dear boy had had a great disappointing reservation from me, who so fondly loved him—kindles hope within me. You do not extinguish it when I state it, but admit it to be a reasonable hope. I begin to believe it possible:” here he clasped his hands: “that he may have disappeared from among us of his own accord, and that he may yet be alive and well.”
Mr. Crisparkle came in at the moment. To whom Mr. Jasper repeated:
“I begin to believe it possible that he may have disappeared of his own accord, and may yet be alive and well.”
Mr. Crisparkle taking a seat, and inquiring: “Why so?” Mr. Jasper repeated the arguments he had just set forth. If they had been less plausible than they were, the good Minor Canon’s mind would have been in a state of preparation to receive them, as exculpatory of his unfortunate pupil. But he, too, did really attach great importance to the lost young man’s having been, so immediately before his disappearance, placed in a new and embarrassing relation towards everyone acquainted with his projects and affairs; and the fact seemed to him to present the question in a new light.
“I stated to Mr. Sapsea, when we waited on him,” said Jasper: as he really had done: “that there was no quarrel or difference between the two young men at their last meeting. We all know that their first meeting was,