Millward to talk to you about it:—he'll tell you the consequences;—he'll set it before you as plain as the day;—and tell you what you ought to do, and all about it;—and, I don't doubt, he'll be able to convince you in a minute."
"No occasion to trouble the vicar," said Mrs. Graham, glancing at me—I suppose I was smiling at my mother's unbounded confidence in that worthy gentleman—"Mr. Markham here, thinks his powers of conviction at least equal to Mr. Millward's. If I hear not him, neither should I be convinced though one rose from the dead, he would tell you.—Well Mr. Markham, you that maintain that a boy should not be shielded from evil, but sent out to battle against it, alone and unassisted—not taught to avoid the snares of life, but boldly to rush into them, or over them, as he may—to seek danger rather than shun it, and feed his virtue by temptation,—would you—"
"I Beg your pardon, Mrs. Graham—but you
