and daily outrage!

As we sat together in the dark, Clive told me this wretched story, which
was wrung from him with a passionate emotion that I could not but keenly
share. He wondered the old man lived, Clive said. Some of the women's
taunts and gibes, as he could see, struck his father so that he gasped
and started back as if some one had lashed him with a whip. "He would
make away with himself," said poor Clive, "but he deems this is his
punishment, and that he must bear it as long as it pleases God. He does
not care for his own losses, as far as they concern himself: but these
reproaches of Mrs. Mackenzie, and some things which were said to him
in the Bankruptcy Court, by one or two widows of old friends, who were
induced through his representations, to take shares in that infernal
bank, have affected him dreadfully. I hear him lying awake and groaning
at night, God bless him. Great God! what can I do--what can I do?" burst
out the young man in a dreadful paroxysm of grief. "I have tried to get
lessons--I went to London on the deck of a steamer, and took a lot of
drawings with me--tried picture-dealers--pawnbrokers--Jews--Moss, whom
you may remember at Gandish's, and who gave me for forty-two drawings,
eighteen pounds. I brought the money back to Boulogne. It was enough to
pay the doctor, and bury our last poor little dead baby. Tenez, Pen, you
must give me some supper: I have had nothing all day but a pain de deux
sous; I can't stand it at home. My heart's almost broken--you must give
me some money, Pen, old boy. I know you will. I thought of writing to
you, but I wanted to support myself, you see. When I went to London with
the drawings I tried George's chambers, but he was in the country, I saw
Crackthorpe on the street in Oxford Street, but I could not face him,
and bolted down Hanway Yard. I tried, and I could not ask him, and I got
the eighteen pounds from Moss that day, and came home with it."

Give him money? of course I would give him money--my dear old friend!
And, as an alterative and a wholesome shock to check that burst of
passion and grief in which the poor fellow indulged, I thought fit
to break into a very fierce and angry invective on my own part, which
served to disguise the extreme feeling of pain and pity that I did not
somehow choose to exhibit. I rated Clive soundly, and taxed him with
unfriendliness and ingratitude for not having sooner applied to friends
who would think shame of themselves w