And, last of all, he had become a Catholic--an act of enthusiasm which seemed to Dick really vulgar.
Altogether, then, Frank was not a satisfactory person, and it would do him no harm to have a little real discipline at last....
* * * * * It was the striking of midnight from the stable clock that woke Dick up from his deep reverie, and was the occasion of his perceiving that he had come to no conclusion about anything, except that Frank was an ass, that Jenny was--well--Jenny, and that he, Dick, was an ill-used person.
I do not like to set down here, even if I could, all the considerations that had passed through Dick's mind since a quarter-past eleven, simply because the very statement of them would give a false impression.

Dick was not a knave, and he did not deceive himself about himself more than most of us do.

Yet he had considered a number of points that, strictly speaking, he ought not to have considered.

He had wondered whether Frank would die; he had wondered whether, if he did not, Lord Talgarth would really be as good as his word; and, if so, what effect that would have on Jenny.

Finally, he had wondered, with a good deal of intellectual application, what exactly Jenny had meant when she had announced all that about the telegram she was going to send in Lord Talgarth's name, and the letter she was going to send in her own.