'One can't, of course, but be kind,' he recommenced.
'I can't do much--I can't make him acceptable, you know--but I pity him,
Dr. Walsingham, and I've tried to be kind to him, _you_ know that; for
ten years I had all the trouble, Sir, of a guardian without the
authority of one. Yes, of course we're kind; but body o' me! Sir, he'd
be better any where else than here, and without occupation, you know,
quite idle, and so conspicuous. I promise you there are more than I who
think it. And he has commenced fitting up that vile old house--that vile
house, Sir. It is ready to tumble down--upon my life they say so; Nutter
says so, and Sturk--Dr. Sturk, of the Artillery here--an uncommon
sensible man, you know, says so too. 'Tis a vile house, and ready to
tumble down, and you know the trouble I was put to by that corporation
fellow--a--what's his name--about it; and he can't let it--people's
servants won't stay in it, you know, the people tell such stories about
it, I'm told; and what business has he here, you know? It is all very
fine for a week or so, but they'll find him out, they will, Sir. He may
call himself Mervyn, or Fitzgerald, or Thompson, Sir, or any other name,
but it won't do, Sir.
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