The poor fellow was so incapable of anything which at
all resembled selfishness, and so dreaded the results of any such
severity on his part as that proposed. There were moments when
indignation almost nerved him to independence, but there returned so
soon the souse of pity, and, oftener still, the thought of that
promise made to Harriet's father, long ago, in the dark little
parlour which smelt of drugs. The poor chemist, whose own life was
full of misery, had been everything to him; but for Mr. Smales, he
might now have been an ignorant, coarse-handed working man, if not
worse. Was Harriet past all rescue? Was there not even yet a chance
of saving her from herself and those hateful friends of hers?
This was the natural reaction after listening to Waymark's
remorseless counsel. Going home, Julian fought once more the battle
with himself, till the usual troubled sleep severed his thoughts
into fragments of horrible dreams. The next day he felt differently;
Waymark's advice seemed more practical. In the afternoon he should
have visited Harriet in the ward, but an insuperable repulsion kept
him away, and for the first time. It was a bleak, cheerless day; the
air was cold with the breath of the nearing winter; At night he
found it impossible to sit in his own room, and dreaded to talk with
any one.
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