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on the table, upset it with a great crash, and falling back in
his chair, discharged from his features every expression but
one of unmitigated wonder, and indulged in a prolonged
and vacant stare; then, as if ashamed of having betrayed
so much emotion, he jerked himself, as it were, by a con-
vulsion into his former attitude, and looking out straight
before him emitted a long deep whistle, which seemed, at
last, not to be discharged on empty air, but to die away in
the innermost recesses of his stomach.
Mr. Browlow was no less surprised, although his aston-
ishment was not expressed in the same eccentric manner.
He drew his chair nearer to Miss Maylie’s, and said,
‘Do me the favour, my dear young lady, to leave entirely
out of the question that goodness and benevolence of which
you speak, and of which nobody else knows anything; and
if you have it in your power to produce any evidence which
will alter the unfavourable opinion I was once induced to
entertain of that poor child, in Heaven’s name put me in
possession of it.’
‘A bad one! I’ll eat my head if he is not a bad one,’ growled
Mr. Grimwig, speaking by some ventriloquial power, with-
out moving a muscle of his face.
‘He is a child of a noble nature and a warm heart,’ said
Rose, colouring; ‘and that Power which has thought fit to
try him beyond his years, has planted in his breast affec-
tions and feelings which would do honour to many who
have numbered his days six times over.’
‘I’m only sixty-one,’ said Mr. Grimwig, with the same
rigid face.