ABSTRACT
‘My dear Russell,’ said Vivian, ‘love shall not make me forget friendship; before I marry, I must see you provided for. Believe me, this was the first – one of the first pleasures I promised myself, in becoming master of a good fortune. Other thoughts, I confess, have put it out of my head; so now let me tell you at once. I hate paltry surprises with my friends: I have, you know – or rather, probably, you do not know, for you are the most disinterested fellow upon earth – I have an excellent living in my gift; it/shall be yours; consider it as such from this moment. If I knew a more deserving man, I would give it to him, upon my honour; so you can’t refuse me. The incumbent can’t live long; he is an old, very old, infirm man; you’ll have the living in a year or two, and, in the mean time, stay with me. I ask it as a favour from a friend, and you see how much I want a friend of your firm character; and I hope you see, also, how much I can value, in others, the qualities in which I am myself deficient.’
