"Have they told you
anything?"
"I have heard nothing; only as I was not allowed to see him,--"
"I left him with Mr. Bascombe half an hour ago," she said, willing
to escape the imputation of having refused him admittance.
Wingfold gave an involuntary sigh.
"You do not think that gentleman's company desirable for my brother,
I presume," she said with a smile so lustreless that it seemed
bitter.
"He won't do him any harm--at least I do not think you need fear
it."
"Why not? No one in your profession can think his opinions harmless,
and certainly he will not suppress them."
"A man with such a weight on his soul as your brother carries, will
not be ready to fancy it lightened by having lumps of lead thrown
upon it. An easy mind may take a shroud on its shoulders for wings,
but when trouble comes and it wants to fly, then it knows the
difference. Leopold will not be misled by Mr. Bascombe."
Helen grew paler. She would have him misled--so far as not to betray
himself.
"I am far more afraid of your influence than of his," added the
curate.
"What bad influence do you suppose me likely to exercise?" asked
Helen, with a cold smile.
"The bad influence of wishing him to act upon your conscience
instead of his own.
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