I always thought that,' said Quilp setting down his glass.

'And when the Mary Anne returned with you on board, instead of a letter to say what a contrite heart you had, and how happy you were in the situation that had been provided for you, I was amused--exceedingly amused.

Ha ha ha!' The young man smiled, but not as though the theme was the most agreeable one that could have been selected for his entertainment; and for that reason Quilp pursued it.
'I always will say,' he resumed, 'that when a rich relation having two young people--sisters or brothers, or brother and sister--dependent on him, attaches himself exclusively to one, and casts off the other, he does wrong.' The young man made a movement of impatience, but Quilp went on as calmly as if he were discussing some abstract question in which nobody present had the slightest personal interest.
'It's very true,' said Quilp, 'that your grandfather urged repeated forgiveness, ingratitude, riot, and extravagance, and all that; but as I told him "these are common faults." "But he's a scoundrel," said he.
"Granting that," said I (for the sake of argument of course), "a great many young noblemen and gentlemen are scoundrels too!" But he wouldn't be convinced.' 'I wonder at that, Mr Quilp,' said the young man sarcastically.
'Well, so did I at the time,' returned Quilp, 'but he was always obstinate.

He was in a manner a friend of mine, but he was always obstinate and wrong-headed.

Little Nell is a nice girl, a charming girl, but you're her brother, Frederick.