I, your laureate, have no special song to give you
just now, but I think much of you, for the sake of darkened fishers, if
not for your own.
Mr. Cassall invited Sir James Roche to meet the other men. Sir James was
the millionaire's physician and friend, and Cassall valued all his
judgments highly, for he saw in the fashionable doctor a money-maker as
shrewd as himself; and, moreover, he had far too much of the insular
Briton about him to undervalue the kind of prestige which attaches to
one who associates with royal personages and breathes the sacred
atmosphere of money. Sir James was an apple-faced old gentleman, who had
been a miser over his stock of health and strength. He was consequently
ruddy, buoyant, strong, and his good spirits were infectious. He
delighted in the good things of the world; no one could order a dinner
better; no one could better judge a picture; no one had a more pure and
hearty liking for pretty faces;--and it must be added, that few men had
more worldly wisdom of the kind needed for everyday use. He could fool a
humbug to the top of his bent, and he would make use of humbugs, or any
other people, to serve his own ends; but he liked best to meet with
simple, natural folks, and Cassall always took his fancy from the time
of their first meeting onward.
Sir James spent the afternoon in driving with his host, and they
naturally chatted a great deal about Mr. Cassall's new ideas. The
physician listened to his friend's version of Miss Dearsley's eloquence,
and then musingly said, "I don't know that you can do better than take
your niece's advice.
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