Notes, bidding us to a "little supper" at Dr.Jessop's, with Mr.and Lady Caroline Brithwood, of the Mythe House.
"Give them to your father, Phineas." And John vainly tried to hide the flash of his eye--the smiles that came and went like summer lightning--"To-morrow--you see, it is to-morrow." Poor lad! he had forgotten every worldly thing in the hope of that to-morrow.
My father's sharp voice roused him.

"Phineas, thee'lt stay at home.
Tell the woman I say so." "And John, father ?" "John may go to ruin if he chooses.

He is his own master." "I have been always." And the answer came less in pride than sadness.
"I might have gone to ruin years ago, but for the mercy of Heaven and your kindness.

Do not let us be at warfare now." "All thy own fault, lad.

Why cannot thee keep in thy own rank?
Respect thyself.