"
"You did not show yourself remarkably selfish when you nursed me through
that fever, at the hazard of your own life."
"Pshaw! that was nothing. I could not have done less in the position in
which we two were. Such sacrifices as those count for very little. It is
when a man's own happiness is in the scale that the black spot shows
itself. I tell you, Gilbert, I am not worth your friendship. It would be
better for you to go your own way, and have nothing more to do with me."
Mr. Saltram had said this kind of thing very often in the past, so that
the words had no especial significance to Gilbert. He only thought that
his friend was in one of those gloomy moods which were common to him at
times.
"I could not do without your friendship, Jack," he said. "Remember how
barren the world is to me now. I have nothing left but that."
"A poor substitute for better things, Gilbert. I am never likely to be
much good to you or to myself. By the way, have you seen anything lately
of that old man you told me about--Miss Nowell's grandfather?"
"I saw him the other night. He is very ill--dying, I believe. I have
written to Marian to tell her that if she does not come very quickly to
see him, there is a chance of her not finding him alive."
"And she will come of course."
"I suppose so.
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