Griffith was--to say--fit to put out
his candle. 'What do you mean, Peter?' thundered my father, whose
brow had been getting more and more furrowed every moment. 'Say it
out!--Drunk?'
'Well sir, no, no, not to say that exactly, but a little excited,
sir, and women is timid. No sir, not to call intoxicated.'
'No, that's to come,' muttered my father. 'Has this often
happened?'
Peter did not think that it had been noticed more than three times
at the most; but he went on to offer his candid and sensible advice
that Mr. Griffith should be placed in a family where there was a
gentleman or lady who would have some hauthority, and could not be
put aside with his good-'umoured haffability--'You're an old fogy,
Peter.' 'Never mind, Nursey, I'll be a good boy next time,' and the
like. 'It is a disadvantage you see, sir, to have been in his
service, and 'tis for the young gentleman's own good as I speaks;
but it would be better if he were somewheres else--unless you would
speak to him, sir.'
To the almost needless question whether Clarence had been with his
brother on these occasions, there was a most decided negative. He
had never gone out with Griffith except once to the theatre, and to
dine at the Castlefords, and at first he had sat up for his return,
'but it led to words between the young gentlemen,' said Peter, whose
confidences were becoming reckless; and it appeared that when
Clarence had found that Gooch would not let him spare her vigil, he
had obeyed her orders and ceased to share it.
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