The best trait he could discover in the lad was his affection
for his sister. This seemed genuine: he was going to see her again--
getting a lift halfway, tramping the other twenty odd miles--at the end
of the week. Perhaps though, in the case of such a young opportunist,
the thought of Mrs. Beamish's lavish board played no small part; for Ned
had a rather lean, underfed look. But this only occurred to Mahony
afterwards. Then, his chief vexation was with himself: it would have
been kinder to set a dish of solid food before the boy, in place of the
naked sherry-bottle. But as usual, his hospitable leanings came too
late.
One thing more. As he lighted Ned and his bundle of stuff through the
shop, he was impelled to slip a coin into the boy's hand, with a
murmured apology for the trouble he had put him to. And a something, the
merest nuance in Ned's manner of receiving and pocketing the money,
flashed the uncomfortable suspicion through the giver's mind that it had
been looked for, expected. And this was the most unpleasant touch of
all.
But, bless his soul! did not most large families include at least one
poorish specimen?--he had got thus far, by the time he came to wind up
his watch for the night. And next day he felt sure he had judged Ned
over-harshly. His first impressions of people--he had had occasion to
deplore the fact before now--were apt to be either dead white or black
as ink; the web of his mind took on no half tints.
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