'
'Now,' Mr. Crisparkle again resumed, in a tone of mild though firm
persuasion, 'is not this to be regretted, and ought it not to be
amended? These are early days of Neville's in Cloisterham, and I
have no fear of his outliving such a prejudice, and proving himself
to have been misunderstood. But how much wiser to take action at
once, than to trust to uncertain time! Besides, apart from its
being politic, it is right. For there can be no question that
Neville was wrong.'
'He was provoked,' Helena submitted.
'He was the assailant,' Mr. Crisparkle submitted.
They walked on in silence, until Helena raised her eyes to the
Minor Canon's face, and said, almost reproachfully: 'O Mr.
Crisparkle, would you have Neville throw himself at young Drood's
feet, or at Mr. Jasper's, who maligns him every day? In your heart
you cannot mean it. From your heart you could not do it, if his
case were yours.'
'I have represented to Mr. Crisparkle, Helena,' said Neville, with
a glance of deference towards his tutor, 'that if I could do it
from my heart, I would. But I cannot, and I revolt from the
pretence. You forget however, that to put the case to Mr.
Crisparkle as his own, is to suppose to have done what I did.'
'I ask his pardon,' said Helena.
'You see,' remarked Mr. Crisparkle, again laying hold of his
opportunity, though with a moderate and delicate touch, 'you both
instinctively acknowledge that Neville did wrong.
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