so indolent, so irresolute, so undisciplined, so uneducated"—Gertrude spoke deliberately and watched the effect of her words—"that you find a change of life very difficult I propose, with your consent, to appoint myself your care-taker. Henceforth my house will be open to you as to my dearest friend. Come as often and stay as long as you please. Not in a few weeks, perhaps, nor even in a few months, but in God's good time, you will be a capable young man, in working order—which I don't consider you now, and which I know you don't consider yourself But I have a great opinion of your talents" (this was very shrewd of Gertrude), "and even of your nature. If I turn out to have done you a service, you will not want to marry me then."
Richard had silently listened, with a deepening frown. "That's all very pretty," he said; "but it's humbug—humbug from beginning to end. What's the meaning of all that rigmarole about the inconsistency of friendship and love? Such talk is enough to make one curse. Refuse me outright, and send me to the devil, if you must; but don't bemuddle your own brains at the same time. Ah, one little word knocks it all to pieces: I want you for my wife! You make an awful mistake in treating me as a boy—a deadly mistake. I am in working order—I began to live properly when I began to love you, I have sworn off drinking as effectually as if I hadn't touched a drop for twenty years. I hate it, I loathe it—I have drunk my last. No, Gertrude, I am no longer a boy—you have cured me of that. Hang it, that's
