“Yes, I replied,” said he, with a dry sententiousness that sounded as though he wished the subject to drop. “Do tell me what you said. I hope you took it in good part. I am sure you could not have shown any resentment at his remarks.” “No; I rather think I showed great forbearance. I simply said, 'My dear Lord Chief Baron, I have to acknowledge the receipt of your letter, of which I accept everything but the enclosure.--I am, faithfully yours.'” “And refused his gift?” “Of course I did. The good counsel without the money, or the last without the counsel, would have beeu all very well; but coming together, in what a false position the offer placed me! I remember that same day we happened to have an unusually meagre dinner, but I drank the old man's health after it in some precious bad wine; and Sir Brook, who knew nothing about the letter, joined in the toast, and pronounced a very pretty little eulogium on his vigor and energy; and thus ended the whole incident.” “If you only knew him better, Tom! if you knew him as I know him!” Tom shrugged his shoulders, and merely said, “It was nicely done, though, not to tell _you_ about this. There was delicacy in _that_.” Lucy went on now to relate all his kind intentions towards Tom when the news of his illness arrived,--how he had conferred with Beattie about sending out a doctor, and how, at such a sacrifice to his own daily habits, he had agreed that she should come out to Cagliari. “And you don't know how much this cost him, Master Tom,” said she, laughing; “for however little store you may lay by my company, he prizes it, and prizes it highly too, I promise you; and then there was another reason which weighed against his letting me come out here,--he has got some absurd prejudice against Sir Brook. I call it absurd, because I have tried to find out to what to trace it, and could not; but a chance expression or two that fell from Mrs. Sewell leads me to suppose the impression was derived from them.” “I don't believe he knows the Sewells. I never heard him speak of them. I 'll ask when he comes over here. By the way, how do you like them yourself?” “I scarcely know. I liked her at first,--that is, I thought I should like her; and I fancied, too, it was her wish that I might--but--” “But what? What does this 'but' mean?” “It means that she has puzzled me, and my hope of liking her depends on my discovering that I have misunderstood her.” “That's a riddle, if ever there was one! but I suppose it comes to this, that if you have read her aright you do not like her.” “I wish I could show you a letter she wrote me.” “And why can't you?” “I don't think I can tell you even that, Tom.” “What a mysterious damsel you have grown! Does this come of your living with that great law lord, Lucy? If so, tell him from me he has spoiled you sadly. How frank you were long ago!” “That is true,” said she, sighing.