'If my boy had been there, I do assure you--and I know him--he would say so
at once. I fancy he would rather _boast_ of it. I never knew him utter an
untruth. When you know him a little you'll say so.'
With these words Uncle Silas leaned back exhausted, and languidly poured
some of his favourite eau-de-cologne over the palms of his hands, nodded a
farewell, and, in a whisper, wished me good-night.
'Dudley's come,' whispered Milly, taking me under the arm as I entered the
lobby. 'But I don't care: he never gives me nout; and he gets money from
Governor, as much as he likes, and I never a sixpence. It's a shame!'
So there was no great love between the only son and only daughter of the
younger line of the Ruthyns.
I was curious to learn all that Milly could tell me of this new inmate of
Bartram-Haugh; and Milly was communicative without having a great deal to
relate, and what I heard from her tended to confirm my own disagreeable
impressions about him. She was afraid of him. He was a 'woundy ugly
customer in a wax, she could tell me.' He was the only one 'she ever knowed
as had pluck to jaw the Governor.
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