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"Look here, Vyse I'm not sorry not altogether sorry this has happened!" He moved slowly across the room, and laid a friendly palm on Vyse's shoulder. "In a queer illogical way it evens up things, as it were. I did you a shabby turn once, years ago oh, out of sheer carelessness, of course about that novel of yours I promised to give to Apthorn.
It is probably a long cry from them to friends of Mr. Vyse's. Oh, Mrs. Honeychurch, the oddest people! The queerest people! For our part we liked them, didn't we?" He appealed to Lucy. "There was a great scene over some violets. They picked violets and filled all the vases in the room of these very Miss Alans who have failed to come to Cissie Villa. Poor little ladies! So shocked and so pleased.
Betton had reverted only once to the subject to ask ironically, a day or two later: "Is Strett writing to me as much as ever?" and, on Vyse's replying with a neutral head-shake, had added with a laugh: "If you suspect him you might as well think I write the letters myself!"
But at this height they suddenly paused, drew back on themselves, and began to recede before the spectacle of Vyse's pale distress. Something warm and emotional in Betton's nature a lurking kindliness, perhaps, for any one who tried to soothe and smooth his writhing ego softened his eye as it rested on the drooping figure of his secretary.
"I was only thinking I'd never seen such short letters from women. Neither one fills the first page." "Well, what of that?" queried Betton. Vyse reflected. "I'd like to meet a woman like that," he said wearily; and Betton laughed again. The letters continued to pour in, and there could be no farther question of dispensing with Vyse's services.
No, it was worse than temper snobbishness. As long as Lucy thought that his own smart friends were supplanting the Miss Alans, she had not minded. He perceived that these new tenants might be of value educationally. He would tolerate the father and draw out the son, who was silent. In the interests of the Comic Muse and of Truth, he would bring them to Windy Corner. Vyse's Well-Appointed Flat
The reader must be pleased, to be informed, that the application, it was for some situation, in the charter-house, was successful. Dr. Vyse informed Dr. Johnson of it, by letter. In his answer, "Dr. Johnson," by Dr. Vyse's account, "rejoiced much, and was lavish of the praise he bestowed upon his favourite Hugo Grotius."
Glad you looked me up, my dear fellow." Vyse's palm was damp and bony: he had always had a disagreeable hand. "You got my note? You know what I've come for?" he said. "About the secretaryship? Betton lowered himself luxuriously into one of his vast Maple arm-chairs. He had grown stouter in the last year, and the cushion behind him fitted comfortably into the crease of his nape.
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