It was of Clarissa's only that he thought. It was a very
small thing; but when her father's wife was concerned, small things were
great in the eyes of Miss Granger.
There was no opportunity for confidential talk between Austin Lovel and his
sister that evening; but Clarissa went home happy in the expectation of
seeing her brother very often in the simplest, easiest way. The portraits
would take some time to paint, of course; indeed Austin might make the
business last almost as long as he liked.
It was rather hard, however, to have to discuss her brother's merits with
Mr. and Miss Granger as if he had been a stranger; and Clarissa had to do
this going home in the carriage that night, and at breakfast next morning.
The young man was handsome, Mr. Granger remarked, but had rather a worn
look--a dissipated look, in point of fact. That sort of people generally
were dissipated.
Mrs. Granger ventured to say that she did not think Mr. Austin looked
dissipated--a little worn, perhaps, but nothing more; and that might be the
effect of hard work.
"My dear Clary, what can you know of the physiology of dissipation? I
tell you that young man is dissipated. I saw him playing _ecarte_ with
a Frenchman just before we left Madame Caballero's; and, unless I am
profoundly mistaken, the man is a gambler."
Clarissa shuddered. She could not forget what George Fairfax had said to
her about her brother's ways, nor the fact that her remittances had seemed
of so little use to him.
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