Part 38 (1/2)

'No, no, Philip; he is too candid to be wilful.'

'I cannot be of your opinion, when I have seen him rus.h.i.+ng into this acquaintance in spite of the warnings he must have had here--to say nothing of myself.'

'Nay, there I must defend him, though you will think me very unwise; I could not feel that I ought to withhold him from taking some notice of so near a relation.'

Philip did think her so unwise, that he could only reply, gravely--

'We must hope it may produce no evil effects.'

'How?' she exclaimed, much alarmed. 'Have you heard anything against him?'

'You remember, of course, that Guy's father was regularly the victim of this Dixon.'

'Yes, yes; but he has had enough to sober him. Do you know nothing more?' said Mrs. Edmonstone, growing nervously anxious lest she had been doing wrong in her husband's absence.

'I have been inquiring about him from old Redford, and I should judge him to be a most dangerous companion; as, indeed, I could have told from his whole air, which is completely that of a roue.'

'You have seen him, then?'

'Yes. He paid me the compliment of taking me for Sir Guy, and of course made off in dismay when he discovered on whom he had fallen. I have seldom seen a less creditable-looking individual.'

'But what did Mr. Redford say? Did he know of the connection?'

'No; I am happy to say he did not. The fellow has decency enough not to boast of that. Well, Redford did not know much of him personally: he said he had once been much thought of, and had considerable talent and execution, but taste changes, or he has lost something, so that, though he stands tolerably high in his profession, he is not a leader. So much for his musical reputation. As to his character, he is one of those people who are called no one's enemy but their own, exactly the introduction Guy has. .h.i.therto happily wanted to every sort of mischief.'

'I think,' said Mrs. Edmonstone, trying to console herself, 'that Guy is too much afraid of small faults to be invited by larger evils. While he punishes himself for an idle word, he is not likely to go wrong in greater matters.'

'Not at present.'

'Is the man in debt or difficulties? Guy heard nothing of that, and I thought it a good sign.'

'I don't suppose he is. He ought not, for he has a fixed salary, besides what he gets by playing at concerts when it is not the London season.

The wasting money on a spendthrift relation would be a far less evil than what I apprehend.'

'I wish I knew what to do! It is very unlucky that your uncle is from home.'

'Very.'

Mrs. Edmonstone was frightened by the sense of responsibility, and was only anxious to catch hold of something to direct her.

'What would you have me do?' she asked, hopelessly.

'Speak seriously to Guy. He must attend to you: he cannot fly out with a woman as he does with me. Show him the evils that must result from such an intimacy. If Dixon was in distress, I would not say a word, for he would be bound to a.s.sist him but as it is, the acquaintance can serve no purpose but degrading Guy, and showing him the way to evil. Above all, make a point of his giving up visiting him in London. That is the sure road to evil. A youth of his age, under the conduct of a worn-out roue, connected with the theatres! I can hardly imagine anything more mischievous.'

'Yes, yes; I will speak to him,' said Mrs. Edmonstone, perfectly appalled.

She promised, but she found the fulfilment difficult, in her dislike of vexing Guy, her fear of saying what was wrong, and a doubt whether the appearance of persecuting Mr. Dixon was not the very way to prevent Guy's own good sense from finding out his true character, so she waited, hoping Mr. Edmonstone might return before Guy went to Oxford, or that he might write decisively.

Mrs. Edmonstone might have known her husband better than to expect him to write decisively when he had neither herself nor Philip at his elbow.