"I dare say. I hope you found yourself comfortable at Merle Park."
"A charming house,—quite charming. I don't know whether I shouldn't build the stables a little further from—"
"Very likely. Nothing is so easy as knocking other people's houses about. I hope you'll soon have one to knock about of your own."
"All in good time," said Mr. Traffick, smiling.
Sir Thomas was one of those men who during the course of a successful life have contrived to repress their original roughnesses, and who make a not ineffectual attempt to live after the fashion of those with whom their wealth and successes have thrown them. But among such will occasionally be found one whose roughness does not altogether desert him, and who can on an occasion use it with a purpose. Such a one will occasionally surprise his latter-day associates by the sudden ferocity of his brow, by the hardness of his voice, and by an apparently unaccustomed use of violent words. The man feels that he must fight, and, not having learned the practice of finer weapons, fights in this way. Unskilled with foils or rapier he falls back upon the bludgeon with which his hand has not lost all its old familiarity. Such a one was Sir Thomas Tringle, and a time for such exercise had seemed to him to have come now. There are other men who by the possession of imperturbable serenity seem to be armed equally against rapier and bludgeon, whom there is no wounding with any weapon. Such a one was Mr. Traffick. When he was told of knocking about a house of his own, he quite took the meaning of Sir Thomas's words, and was immediately prepared for the sort of conversation which would follow. "I wish I might;—a Merle Park of my own for instance. If I had gone into the city instead of to Westminster it might have come in my way."
"It seems to me that a good deal has come in your way without very much trouble on your part."
"A seat in the House is a nice thing,—but I work harder I take it than you do, Sir Thomas."
"I never have had a shilling but what I earned. When you leave this where are you and Augusta going to live?"
This was a home question, which would have disconcerted most gentlemen in Mr. Traffick's position, were it not that gentlemen easily disconcerted would hardly find themselves there.
"Where shall we go when we leave this? You were so kind as to say something about Glenbogie when Parliament is up."