Perhaps it would come with Felix, or in the dawn after a
troubled night. Alas! no. And moreover, Felix, to whom it was
necessary to speak, was exceedingly angry and vexed, and utterly
incredulous of there being any good in the character that could be so
fickle, if not deceitful and hypocritical. His own resolute temper
had no power of comprehending the unmanliness of erring against the
better will; he was absolutely incapable of understanding the
horrible lassitude and craving for excitement that must have tempted
Fernando, and he was hard and even ashamed of himself for having ever
believed in the lad's sincerity.
This anger, too, made him speak with such a threatening tone to
Fulbert as to rouse the doggedness of the boy's nature. All that
could be got out of Fulbert was that 'his going there was all Felix's
doing,' and he would not manifest any sign of regret, such as would
be any security against his introducing the practice among the clergy
orphans, or continuing it all his life. He was not a boy given to
confidences, and neither Wilmet nor Cherry could get him beyond his
glum declaration that it was Felix's fault, he only wanted to keep
out of the fellow's way.
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