o to him,
Theodore?" said his wife. "It is very easy to say go to him," he
replied. "If I made it my business I could, of course, go to him, and no
doubt find him if I was determined to do so--but what more could I do? I
can lead a horse to the water, but I cannot make him drink." "You could
speak to him of Florence." "That is such a woman's idea," said the
husband. "When every proper incentive to duty and ambition has failed
him, he is to be brought into the right way by the mention of a girl's
name!" "May I see him?" Cecilia urged. "Yes--if you can catch him; but I
do not advise you to try."
After that came the two letters for the husband and wife, each of which
was shown to the other; and then for the first time did either of them
receive the idea that Lady Ongar with her fortune might be a cause of
misery to their sister. "I don't believe a word of it," said Cecilia,
whose cheeks were burning, half with shame and half with anger. Harry
had been such a pet with her--had already been taken so closely to her
heart as a brother! "I should not have suspected him of that kind of
baseness," said Theodore, very slowly. "He is not base," said Cecilia.
"He may be idle and foolish, but he is not base."
"I must at any rate go after him now," said Theodore. "I don't believe
this--I won't believe it. I do not believe it. But if it should be
true--!"
"Oh, Theodore."
"I do not think it is true. It is not the kind of weakness I have seen
in him. He is weak and vain, but I should have said that he was true."
"I am sure he is true."
"I think so. I cannot say more than that I think so."
"You will write to your mother?"
"Yes."
"And may I ask Florence to come up? Is it not always better that people
should be near to each other when they are engaged?"
"You can ask her, if you like. I doubt whether she will come."
"She will come if she thinks that anything is amiss with him."
Cecilia wrote immediately to Florence, pressing her invitation in the
strongest terms that she could use. "I tell you the whole truth," she
said. "We have not seen him, and this of course, has troubled us very
greatly. I feel quite sure he would come to us if you were here; and
this, I think, should bring you, if no other consideration does so.
Theodore imagines that he has become simply idle, and that he is ashamed
to show himself here because of that. It may be that he has some trouble
with reference to his own home, of which we know nothi
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