"Nor young either, I sometimes think. But now you must promise me this. You will do all that you can to induce him to make Carbury his residence."
"We have no plans as yet at all, Roger."
"Then it will be certainly so much the easier for you to fall into my plan. Of course you will be married at Carbury?"
"What will mamma say?"
"She will come here, and I am sure will enjoy it. That I regard as settled. Then, after that, let this be your home,—so that you should learn really to care about and to love the place. It will be your home really, you know, some of these days. You will have to be Squire of Carbury yourself when I am gone, till you have a son old enough to fill that exalted position." With all his love to her and his good-will to them both, he could not bring himself to say that Paul Montague should be Squire of Carbury.
"Oh, Roger, please do not talk like that."
"But it is necessary, my dear. I want you to know what my wishes are, and, if it be possible, I would learn what are yours. My mind is quite made up as to my future life. Of course, I do not wish to dictate to you,—and if I did, I could not dictate to Mr. Montague."
"Pray,—pray do not call him Mr. Montague."
"Well, I will not;—to Paul then. There goes the last of my anger." He threw his hands up as though he were scattering his indignation to the air. "I would not dictate either to you or to him, but it is right that you should know that I hold my property as steward for those who are to come after me, and that the satisfaction of my stewardship will be infinitely increased if I find that those for whom I act share the interest which I shall take in the matter. It is the only payment which you and he can make me for my trouble."