That's the kind of Christian he is." "I must speak to him." "Oh, please not to do that! He will think I am afraid." Here were the Squire and Rivers on two sides of this question.
"Are you afraid, John?
You were once frank with me about it." "I do not think, Mr.Rivers, you ought to ask me that." He drew up his figure as he spoke.
The rector would have liked to have whistled--a rare habit with him when alone and not in one of his moods of depression.

He said, "I beg your pardon, John," and felt that he had not only done no good, but had made a mistake.
John said, "I am greatly obliged, sir." When half-way home he went back and met Rivers at his gate.
"Well," said the rector, "left anything ?" "No, sir," said the boy, his young figure stiffening, his head up.
"I wasn't honest, sir." And again with his old half-lost formal way, "I--I--you might have thought--I wasn't--quite honourable.

I mean--I'll never be able to forgive that blackguard until I can--can get even with him.

You see, sir ?" "Yes, I see," said Rivers, who did not see, or know for a moment what to say.

"Well, think it over, John.