So I went, and we were made much of in spite of the disappointment.
Had not Mr. Harold Alison been so kind as to come over both Sunday
and Monday morning and see to poor Nep in his kennel before they were
down? Oh, yes, they had heard of it from the stable-boy, and had
charged him to take care the gentleman came in to breakfast, but he
could not persuade him. Such a pity he was too busy to come to-day!
Eustace gave learned and elaborate opinions on Nep, and gained the
hearts of the ladies, who thenceforth proclaimed that Mr. Alison was
a wonderfully finished gentleman, considering his opportunities; but
Mr. Harold was at the best a rough diamond, so that once more his
conquest had been for Eustace rather than for himself. They showed
me, in self-justification, letters from their relations in Melbourne,
speaking of the notorious Harry Alison as a huge bearded ruffian, and
telling horrid stories of his excesses in no measured terms. Of
course we denied them, and represented that some other man must have
borne the same name, and gratitude made them agree; but the
imputation lay there, ready to revive at any time. And there had
been something in the whole affair that had not a happy effect on
Harold. He was more blunt, more gruff, less tolerant or ready to be
pleased; Eustace's folly was no longer incapable of provoking him;
and even his gentleness towards Dora and me was with a greater
effort, and he was plainly in an irritable state of suppressed
suffering of mind or temper, which only the strong force he put upon
himself kept in check.
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