“No! Dal it, we were all for old England and the Constitution! The Constitution, just as it is, and no tinkering with it.”
“I wonder which of the nine was the biggest fool among you?”
“Thou shouldst not talk in that way, Maude. The country is in real danger with this Reform nonsense. Every Reformer ought to be hung, and I wish they were hung.”
“I would be ashamed to say such words, John. Thou knowest well that thy own son is a Reformer.”
“More shame to him, and to me, and to thee! I would have brought up a better lad, or else I would hold my tongue about him. It was thy fault he went to Cambridge. I spent good money then to spoil a fine fellow.”
“Now, John Atheling, I won’t have one word said against Edgar in this house.”
“It is my house.”
“Nay, but it isn’t. Thou only hast the life rent of it. It is Edgar’s as much as thine. He will be here, like enough, when I and thou have gone the way we shall never come back.”
“Maybe he will–and maybe he will not. I can break the entail if it suits me.”
“Thou canst not. For, with all thy faults, thou art an upright man, and thy conscience wouldn’t let thee do anything as mean and spiteful as that. How could we rest in our graves if there was any one but an Atheling in Atheling?”