She knew that his life was not like that of Harry--steady, sober, and discreet; but she felt that she did not like him, or even love him the less on this account.

Nay, it was not clear to her that these failings of his did not give him additional claims on her sympathies.

What could she do for him?
how could she relieve him?
how could she bring him back to the right way?
She spoke to him of his London life, praised his talents, encouraged him to exertion, besought him to have some solicitude, and, above all, some respect for himself.

And then, with that delicacy which such a woman, and none but such a woman, can use in such a matter, she asked him whether he was still in debt.
Charley, with shame we must own it, had on this subject been false to all his friends.

He had been false to his father and his mother, and had never owned to them the half of what he owed; he had been false to Alaric, and false to Harry; but now, now, at such a moment as this, he would not allow himself to be false to Mrs.Woodward.
'Yes,' he said, 'he was in debt--rather.' Mrs.Woodward pressed him to say whether his debts were heavy--whether he owed much.
'It's no use thinking of it, Mrs.Woodward,' said he; 'not the least.