"
"A queer old stick, they zay, though I've never set eyes on un. He
don't hit it off with his zon, neither."
"Whose fault is that?"
"Both. Do 'ee know young Mr Charles?"
"I've met him."
"H'm!"
"What's the matter with him?"
Mr Trivett solemnly shook his head.
"What does that mean?"
"It's hard to zay. But from what I zee an' from what I hear tell, he
be a deal too clever."
"Isn't that an advantage nowadays?"
"Often. But he's quarrelled with his feyther and zoon gets tired of
everything he takes up."
Trivett's remarks increased Mavis' sympathy for Perigal. The more he
had against him, the more necessary it was for those who liked him
to make allowance for flaws in his disposition. Kindly encouragement
might do much where censure had failed.
Days passed without Mavis seeing more of Perigal. His indifference
to her existence hurt the little vanity that she possessed. At the
same time, she wondered if the fact of her not having written to
thank him for the violets had anything to do with his making no
effort to seek her out. Her perplexities on the matter made her
think of him far more than she might have done had she met him
again.
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