“I have done so till I was wearied. Like a true lawyer, he insists upon proving each step as he goes, and will not condescend to a hypothetical conclusion, though I have told him over and over again we want a settlement, not a victory. Good-bye, good-bye! If I once launch out into the cause, I cannot tear myself away again.”
“Has your guest gone, Peter?” said Miss Dinah, as her brother re-entered the drawing-room.
“Yes; it was a hurried departure, and he had no great heart for it, either. By the way, Withering, while it is fresh in my head, let me tell you the message he has sent you.”
“Was there none for me, Peter?” said she, scofflngly.
“Ay, but there was, Dinah! He left with me I know not how many polite and charming things to say for him.”
“And am I alone forgotten in this wide dispensation of favors?” asked Josephine, smiling.
“Of course not, dear,” chimed in Miss Dinah. “Your grandpapa has been charged with them all. You could not expect a gentleman so naturally timid and bashful as our late guest to utter them by his own lips.”
“I see,” said Withering, laughing, “that you have not forgiven the haughty aristocrat for his insolent estimate of the people!”
“He an aristocrat! Such bitter words as his never fell from any man who had a grandfather!”
“Wrong for once, Dinah,” broke in Barrington. “I can answer for it that you are unjust to him.”