human
Sir, will you forgive me? Are you related to the Verneys?
gpt
No, I haven't that honour, said he, smiling.
human
I _know_ Cleve Verney very well, and a very good fellow he is; but we're not connected; my name is Sedley--Thomas Sedley.
gpt
Sedley! she repeated once or twice, still looking at him,
human
I recollect the name. No--no connection, I dare say, Cleve; and how _is_ Cleve?
gpt
Very well; he's at Ware, now, for a few days.
human
Ah! I dare say, and very well; a pretty boy--very pretty; but not like--no, not the least.
gpt
I've heard people say he's very like what his father was,
human
Oh! _yes_, I think so; there _is_ a likeness,
gpt
His father's been dead a long time, you know?
human
I know; yes. Cleve is at Oxford or Cambridge by this time?
gpt
Cleve has done with all that ever so long. He's in the House of Commons now, and likely to be a swell there, making speeches, and all that.
human
I know--I know. I had forgot how long it is since; he was a clever boy, wild, and talkative; yes, yes, he'll do for Parliament, I suppose, and be a great man, some day, there. There was no resemblance though; and you, sir, are like him, he was so handsome--no one so handsome.
gpt
And I don't know. I can make out nothing. No one can. There's a picture. I think they'd burn it, if they knew. It is drawn in chalks by a French artist; they colour so beautifully. It hangs in my room. I pray before it, every morning, for him.
human
They'd burn it, I think, if they knew there was a picture. I was always told they were a cruel family. Well, I don't know, I forgive him; I've forgiven him long ago. You are very like the picture, and even more like what I remember him. The picture was taken just when he came of age. He was twenty-seven when I first saw him; he was brilliant, a beautiful creature, and when I looked in his face I saw the sorrow that has never left me. You are wonderfully like, sir; but there's a difference. You're not so handsome.
gpt
There is goodness and kindness in your face; his had little of that, nothing soft in it, but everything brilliant and interesting; and yet you are wonderfully like.
human
The wind grows cold. A pain shoots through me while I look at you, sir. I feel as if I were speaking to a spirit, God help me! I have said more to you to-night, than I have spoken for ten years before; forgive me, sir, and thank you, very much.