Mr. Smith, was it so very dishonourable of me?"
"You are the best judge of that yourself, Harry," I answered. "Just let me
look at the note."
I read it, folded it up carefully, and returning it, said:
"He's given you a good hold of him there. It is really too bad of
Cathcart, being a downright good fellow, to forget that he ran away with
Miss Selby, old Sir George, the baronet's daughter. Neither of them ever
repented it; though he was only Captain Cathcart then, in a regiment of
foot, too, and was not even next heir to the property he has now."
"Hurrah!" cried Harry.
"Stop, stop. That doesn't make it a bit better," said his brother. "I
suppose you mean to argue with him on that ground, do you?"
"No, I don't. I'm not such a fool. But if I _should_ be forced to run away
with her, _he_ can't complain, you know."
"No, no, Harry, my boy," said I. "That won't do. It would break the old
man's heart. You must have patience for a while."
"Yes, yes. I know what I mean to do."
"What?"
"When I've made up my mind, I never ask advice.
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