"I thought he had wit, sir."
"And not good sense?"
"Am I a judge?" asked Charlotte, rising, and holding
a lighted paper to her father, while he took a new
segar.
Her clear blue eyes resting on him in the fulness of
filial affection, as she performed this office, and the
open air with which she bent forward to receive the
kiss he offered in thanks, removed any
apprehensions which the name of their morning's
companion might have excited.
Mr. Henly knew nothing concerning this young man
that would induce him at all to avoid the connexion,
but still he had not yet examined his character with
that searching vigilance that he thought due to the
innocence and merit of his child. Determining within
himself, however, that this was a task that should
no longer be neglected, he rose, and telling the
ladies that he left the bottle with them, withdrew
to his study.
The door had hardly closed behind Mr. Henly, when
George Morton entered the dining parlour, with the
freedom of an old and favourite friend, and telling
Mrs. Henly that, in consequence of his family's
dining out, and his own engagements, he was
fasting, and begged her charity for a meal. From
the instant that he appeared, Charlotte had risen
with alacrity, and was no sooner acquainted with
his wants, than she rung to order what he required.
She brought him a glass of sparkling wine with her
own hands, and pushing a chair nearer to the fire
than the one he occupied, she said--
"Sit here, George, you appear chilled--I thought you
would miss your coat.
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