Mr. Fordyce told him he was afraid of being like the fisherman who
wedded a mermaid, and made Ellen tell the story in her own pretty
way; but while we were laughing over it, I saw my mother steal her
hand into my father's and give it a strong grasp. Such gestures,
which she denominated pawing, when she witnessed them in Emily, were
so alien to her in general that no doubt this little action was
infinitely expressive to her husband. She was wonderfully softened,
and Clarence implied to me that it was the first time she had ever
seemed to grieve for him more than she despised him, or to recognise
his deprivation more than his disgrace,--implied, I say, for the
words he used were little more than--'You can't think how nice she
was to me.'
The regaining of esteem and self-respect was lessening Clarence's
bashfulness, and bringing out his powers of conversation, so that he
began to be appreciated as a pleasant companion, answering Griff's
raillery in like fashion, and holding his own in good-natured
repartee. Mr. Fordyce got on excellently with him in their tete-a-
tetes (who would not with Parson Frank?), and held him in higher
estimation than did Ellen. To her, honesty was common, tame, and
uninteresting in comparison with heroism; and Griff's vague
statement that Clarence was the best brother in the world did not go
for much.
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