He pointed distinctly at the old gentleman who gave the supper as the writer of the letter.

Evan, in return, confided to him his history and present position, and Mr.Raikes, without cooling to his fortunate friend, became a trifle patronizing.
'You said your father--I think I remember at old Cudford's--was a cavalry officer, a bold dragoon ?' 'I did,' replied Evan.

'I told a lie.' 'We knew it; but we feared your prowess, Harrington.' Then they talked over the singular letter uninterruptedly, and Evan, weak among his perplexities of position and sentiment: wanting money for the girl up-stairs, for this distasteful comrade's bill at the Green Dragon, and for his own immediate requirements, and with the bee buzzing of Rose in his ears: 'She despises you,' consented in a desperation ultimately to sign his name to it, and despatch Jack forthwith to Messrs.

Grist.
'You'll find it's an imposition,' he said, beginning less to think it so, now that his name was put to the hated monstrous thing; which also now fell to pricking at curiosity.

For he was in the early steps of his career, and if his lady, holding to pride, despised him--as, he was tortured into the hypocrisy of confessing, she justly might, why, then, unless he was the sport of a farceur, here seemed a gilding of the path of duty: he could be serviceable to friends.