“What have you to ask of Lucy?” said I; “be brave, and speak out.”

But there was no courage in her eye; as it met mine, it fell; and there was no coolness on her cheek⁠—not a transient surface-blush, but a gathering inward excitement raised its tint and its temperature.

“Lucy, I do wish to know your thoughts of Dr. Bretton. Do, do give me your real opinion of his character, his disposition.”

“His character stands high, and deservedly high.”

“And his disposition? Tell me about his disposition,” she urged; “you know him well.”

“I know him pretty well.”