“It is then with your entire consent he would make this offer?”
“With my whole heart in it! I shall never feel I have repaired the injury I have done George Barrington till I have called his daughter my own.”
Old Barrington arose, and walked up and down with slow and measured steps. At last he halted directly in front of General Conyers, and said,—
“If you will do me one kindness, I will agree to everything. What am I saying? I agree already; and I would not make a bargain of my consent; but you will not refuse me a favor?”
“Ask me anything, and I promise it on the faith of a gentleman.”
“It is this, then; that you will stand by me in this affair of Stapylton's. I have gone too far for subtleties or niceties. It is no question of who was his father, or what was his own bringing up. I have told him I should be at his orders, and don't let me break my word.”
“If you choose me for your friend, Barrington, you must not dictate how I am to act for you.”
“That is quite true; you are perfectly correct there,” said the other, in some confusion.
“On that condition, then, that I am free to do for you what I would agree to in my own case, I accept the charge.”
“And there is to be no humbug of consideration for my age and my white hairs; none of that nonsense about a fellow with one leg in the grave. Mark you, Conyers, I will stand none of these; I have never taken a writ of ease not to serve on a jury, nor will I hear of one that exempts me from the rights of a gentleman.”