He had a long interview with Patience, in which she informed him that the story told by her to Dr. Larcher had been told with the best intentions to spare him the truth, and on consideration he saw for himself that she had acted for the best, so he forgave her for the falsehood. Patience stayed on at the Grange, living her old life, and felt quite satisfied now that the future of the human being she loved best on earth was secured.
Reginald asked Dr. Larcher to let him take Dick to Town, which request the worthy vicar granted, only admonishing Mr. Bolby to look carefully after the pair.
"I love them as my own sons," said the good man gravely, "and I dread lest they should be led into evil ways in the great city--they are young and untried--let them not drink, for what says Horace? '_Non ego sanius, Bacchabor Edonis_.'"
"They won't get any bad example from me," said Mr. Bolby, "from me there's no bad example to be got. I'll take them to the theatres and several amusements, but that's all."
So the vicar, full of anxiety for his dear boys, allowed them to go, and the last to bid Reginald farewell was Una.
"Don't forget me among all the beauties of London," she whispered archly; "or I'll come to Town to look for you."
"Don't be afraid," he replied with an affectation of lightness he was far from feeling. "I will come back to you heart-whole, and then if you'll have me we'll be married."
So the poor lad departed, having learned already thus early in life that wealth alone does not bring happiness.
CHAPTER XXIX. FROM DR. NESTLEY'S POINT OF VIEW.
So low--so low--yes I am low indeed But he thy lover tho' of high estate Will fall to this--I tell thee dainty dame The devil even now is at his ear Breathing temptations in most subtle guise Which soon will lose him all he holds most dear.
The autumn was now nearly over, and it was that bleak, chill season just before winter when the trees, denuded of foliage, seemed to wait for the snow to cover the bare branches which shivered complainingly in the chill wind. Under foot the ground was dark and sodden, overhead the sky dull and lowering, while piercingly cold blasts blew across the lonely marshes and whistled shrilly over the waste moorland.