“That last story is more likely to be true than the other,” he said.
“Yes,” said Mr. Paull; “if, indeed, there is any fact in the gossip at all. Bullock said he felt positive that if Sir Roderick suspected his brother of wronging him in regard to Lady Pym, his suspicion had been utterly groundless. He knows Mr. Pym. He said that no doubt he pitied his young sister-in-law for being immured in so un-English a fashion, and did his best to brighten her life; but that this was all his part in the affair. That Sir Roderick has come to believe so too, is, I should think, proved by his love for his brother’s son.”
An idea came into Hugh’s mind which took away his breath for a moment. He unconsciously rose from his chair and straightened himself.
“How does anyone know that he is really fond of Captain Pym?” he suggested. “His statement that he is his heir may have been made in revenge, to spoil the young man, to place him in an unnatural position in his own family circle, and to leave him stranded and befooled at the last.”
“Impossible, Hugh! No human being could be so mean!”
“Nothing is impossible in Sir Roderick, father. Think back on what you have told me of his conduct to his wife! His brain is unbalanced. He is clever enough, kind enough, in a way; but he is extravagantly eccentric. For instance, I am sure he adores that daughter of his as far as he is capable of adoration; yet he keeps her as much shut up as he did her mother.”
“Poor child!” said Mr. Paull, sympathetically. “What a good thing it would be for her to know Maud and Daisy.”
“To return to Daisy’s affair,” said Hugh. “It does not seem a very bright specimen of a family to marry into.”
“My dear boy, all families have their skeletons in the cupboard,” said the rector, somewhat nervously. (Hugh was seemingly getting into one of his stern humours, which would be bad for poor Daisy.) “Find me the family that has not.”
“Ours,” said Hugh.