‘You would say, if you didn’t mind speaking the truth, that you thought your uncle disliked me--disapproved of me. Come, now--did he not try to make you avoid me? You needn’t mind acknowledging the fact, for, when I have explained the reason of it, you will see that it involves no discredit to either of us.’ ‘I have no fear for my uncle.’ ‘You are honest, if not over-polite,’ he rejoined. ‘--You do not feel so sure about my share. Well, I don’t mind who knows it, for my part. I roused the repugnance, to the knowledge of which your silence confesses, merely by acting as any professional man ought to have acted--and with the best intentions. At the same time, all the blame I should ever think of casting upon him is that he allowed his high-strung, saintly, I had almost said superhuman ideas to stand in the way of his nephew’s prosperity.’ ‘Perhaps he was afraid of that prosperity standing in the way of a better.’ ‘Precisely so. You understand him perfectly. He was one of the best and simplest-minded men in the world.’ ‘I am glad you do him that justice.’ ‘At the same time I do not think he intended you to remain in absolute ignorance of what I am going to tell you. But, you see, he died very suddenly. Besides, he could hardly expect I should hold my tongue after he was gone.’ ‘Perhaps, however, he might expect me not to cultivate your acquaintance,’ I said, laughing to take the sting out of the words. ‘You cannot accuse yourself of having taken any trouble in that direction,’ he returned, laughing also. ‘I believe, however,’ I resumed, ‘from what I can recall of things he said, especially on one occasion, on which he acknowledged the existence of a secret in which I was interested, he did not intend that I should always remain in ignorance of everything he thought proper to conceal from me then.’ ‘I presume you are right. I think his conduct in this respect arose chiefly from anxiety that the formation of your character should not be influenced by the knowledge of certain facts which might unsettle you, and prevent you from reaping the due advantages of study and self-dependence in youth. I cannot, however, believe that by being open with you I shall now be in any danger of thwarting his plans, for you have already proved yourself a wise, moderate, conscientious man, diligent and painstaking. Forgive me for appearing to praise you. I had no such intention. I was only uttering as a fact to be considered in the question, what upon my honour I thoroughly believe.’ ‘I should be happy in your good opinion, if I were able to appropriate it,’ I said. ‘But a man knows his own faults better than his neighbour knows his virtues.’ ‘Spoken like the man I took you for, Mr Cumbermede,’ he rejoined gravely.