Ned had risen slowly, as the Doctor uttered those last words, turning
as white as a sheet, and stood gazing at him, with large eyes, in which
there was a calm upbraiding; a strange dignity was in his childish
aspect, which was no longer childish, but seemed to have grown older
all in a moment.

"Sir," added the Doctor, incensed at the boy's aspect, "there is
nonsense that ought to be whipt out of you."

"You have said enough, sir," said the boy. "Would to God you had left
me where you found me![Endnote: 4] It was not my fault that you took me
from the alms-house. But it will be my fault if I ever eat another bit
of your bread, or stay under your roof an hour longer."

He was moving towards the door, but little Elsie sprung upon him and
caught him round the neck, although he repelled her with severe
dignity; and Doctor Grimshawe, after a look at the group in which a
bitter sort of mirth and mischief struggled with a better and kindlier
sentiment, at last flung his pipe into the chimney, hastily quaffed the
remnant of a tumbler, and shuffled after Ned, kicking off his old
slippers in his hurry. He caught the boy just by the door.

"Ned, Ned, my boy, I'm sorry for what I said," cried he. "I am a
guzzling old blockhead, and don't know how to treat a gentleman when he
honors me with his company. It is not in my blood nor breeding to have
such knowledge. Ned, you will make a man, and I lied if I said
otherwise. Come, I'm sorry, I'm sorry."

The boy was easily touched, at these years, as a boy ought to be; and
though he had not yet forgiven the grim Doctor, the tears, to his