"
"It was an impulse," Charles pleaded; "an instinctive impulse!"
"Civilised man restrains his impulses," the doctor answered. "You
_have_ lived too long _in_ South Africa, Mr. Porter--I mean, Sir
Charles Vandrift, if that's the right way _to_ address such a
gentleman. You appear to _have_ imbibed the habits _and_ manners
of the Kaffirs you lived among."
For the next two days, I will really admit, Charles seemed more
wretched than I could have believed it possible for him to be on
somebody else's account. He positively grovelled. The fact was,
he saw he had hurt Dr. Quackenboss's feelings, and--much to my
surprise--he seemed truly grieved at it. If the doctor would have
accepted a thousand pounds down to shake hands at once and forget
the incident--in my opinion Charles would have gladly paid it.
Indeed, he said as much in other words to the pretty American--for
he could not insult her by offering her money. Mrs. Quackenboss did
her best to make it up, for she was a kindly little creature, in
spite of her roguishness; but Elihu stood aloof. Charles urged him
still to go out to South Africa, increasing his bait to two thousand
a year; yet the doctor was immovable. "No, no," he said; "I had half
decided _to_ accept your offer--_till_ that unfortunate impulse; but
that settled the question.
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