He did let himself be put under
a pump once at some beastly hole in the country, for not choosing to
use bad language, and he has never been so strong since."
"Mother would be glad that at least you allowed him the use of his
conscience."
"I'm glad I did now," said Cecil, with a sigh, "though it was a great
nuisance sometimes."
"Was the Monk, as you call him, one of that set?"
"Bless you, no, he's a regular sap, as steady as old time."
"I wonder if he is the son of the doctor whom Medlicott talks of."
"No; his father is alive. He is a colonel, living near their place.
The other two are the doctor's sons; their mother came into the
property after his death. Their Maximus was in college at first, and
between ourselves, he was a bit of a snob, who couldn't bear to
recollect it."
"Not your friend?"
"No, indeed. The eldest one, who has left these two years, and is at
Christchurch."
"I am sure the one who came down here was a gentleman."
"So they are, all three of them," said Cecil, who had never found his
brother so ready to hear anything about his Eton life, since in
general accounts of the world, from which he was debarred, so jarred
on his feelings that he silenced it with apparent indifference,
contempt, or petulance.
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