means by which he could
reach Emily Hotspur. She loved him, but she would not so far disobey
her father and mother, or depart from her own word, as to receive
even a letter from him. But the other friend who loved him,--he still
could see her. He knew well the time at which he would find her at
home, and some three or four hours after his interview with Mr. Hart
he knocked at Mrs. Morton's door.

"Well, George," she said, "how does your wooing thrive?"

He had no preconceived plan in coming to her. He was possessed by
that desire, which we all of us so often feel, to be comforted by
sympathy; but he hardly knew even how to describe the want of it.

"It does not thrive at all," he said, throwing himself gloomily into
an easy chair.

"That is bad news. Has the lady turned against you?"

"Oh no," said he, moodily,--"nothing of that sort."

"That would be impossible, would it not? Fathers are stern, but to
such a one as you daughters are always kind. That is what you mean;
eh, George?"

"I wish you would not chaff me, Lucy. I am not well, and I did not
come to be chaffed."

"The chaffing is all to be on one side, is it, George? Well; I will
say nothing to add to your discomforts. What is it ails you? You will
drink liqueurs after dinner. That is what makes you so wretched. And
I believe you drink them before dinner too."

"Hardly ever. I don't do such a thing three times in a month. It is
not that; but things do trouble me so."

"I suppose Sir Harry is not well pleased."

"He is doing what he ought not to do, I must say that;--quite what I
call ungentlemanlike. A lawyer should never be allowed to interfere
between gentlemen. I wonder who would stand it, if an attorney were
set to work to make all manner of inquiries about everything that he
had ever done?"

"I could not, certainly. I should cave in at once, as the boys say."

"Other men have been as bad as I have, I suppose. He is sending about
everywhere."

"Not only sending, George, but going himself. Do you know that Sir
Harry did me the honour of visiting me?"

"No!"

"But he did. He sat there in that very chair, and talked to me in a
manner that nobody ever did before, certainly. What a fine old man he
is, and how handsome!"

"Yes; he is a good-looking old fellow."

"So like you, George."

"Is he?"

"Only you know, less,--less,--less, what shall I say?--less
good-natured, perhaps."

"I know what you mean. He is not such a fool as I am."