Walsingham spoke the appellative, brother; and it smote Devereux now,
as sometimes happens with wayward fellows, and his better nature was
suddenly moved.
'I'm _sorry_, Sir--I am. You're too patient--I'm _very_ sorry; 'tis like
an angel--you're noble, Sir, and I such an outcast. I--I wish you'd
strike me, Sir--you're too kind and patient, Sir, and so pure--and how
have I spoken to you? A _trial_, Sir, if you _can_ forgive me--one
trial--my vice--you shall see me changed, a new man. Oh, Sir, let me
swear it. I _am_, Sir--I'm reformed; don't believe me till you see it.
Oh! good Samaritan,--don't forsake me--I'm all one wound.'
Well! they talked some time longer, and parted kindly.
CHAPTER LXVII.
IN WHICH A CERTAIN TROUBLED SPIRIT WALKS.
Mr. Dangerfield was at the club that night, and was rather in spirits
than otherwise, except, indeed, when poor Charles Nutter was talked of.
Then he looked grave, and shrugged, and shook his head, and said--
'A bad business, Sir; and where's his poor wife?'
'Spending the night with us, poor soul,' said Major O'Neill, mildly,
'and hasn't an idaya, poor thing; and indeed, I hope, she mayn't hear
it.
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