“I pressed him,” continued the other, “to give me some instructions, for I can’t suppose he intends to let his fortune slip out of his hands altogether. I told him that it was as much as to impugn his legitimacy; and he gave me a look that frightened me, and, for a moment, I wished myself anywhere else than in the room with him. ‘He must be something younger, and bolder, and braver than you, Sir, that will ever dare to utter such a doubt as that,’ said he; and he was almost purple with passion as he spoke.”
“They are all violent; at least, they were!” said she, with a sneering smile. “I hope you encouraged the notion of going to Arran. I should be so glad if he were to do it at once.”
“Indeed?”
“Can you doubt it, Mr. M’Kinlay? Is it a person so acute and observant as yourself need be told that my niece, Ada, should not be thrown into constant companionship with a young fellow whose very adventures impart a sort of interest to him?”
“But a sailor, Miss Courtenay!—a mere sailor!”
“Very well, Sir; and a mere sailor, to a very young girl who has seen nothing of life, would possibly be fully as attractive as a Member of Parliament. The faculty to find out what is suitable to us, Mr. M’Kinlay, does not usually occur in very early life.”
There was a marked emphasis in the word “suitable” that made the old lawyer’s heart throb fast and full. Was this thrown out for encouragement—was it to inspire hope, or suggest warning? What would he not have given to be certain which of the two it meant.
“Ah, Miss Courtenay,” said he, with a most imploring look, “if I only could assure myself that in the words you have just spoken there lay one spark of hope—I mean, if I could but believe that this would be the proper moment——”
“My dear Mr. M’Kinlay, let me stop you. There are many things to be done before I can let you even finish your sentence; and mind me, Sir, this, ‘without prejudice,’ as you lawyers say, to my own exercise of judgment afterwards; and the first of these is to send this young man away. I own to you, frankly, he is no favourite of mine. I call ruggedness what they call frankness; and his pride of name and birth are, when unattached to either fortune or position, simply insufferable. Get rid of him; send him to Arran, if he won’t go to Japan. You can do it without inhospitality, or even awkwardness. You can hint to him that people rarely remain beyond two or three days on a visit; that his intimacy with Ada gives pain, uneasiness, to her family; that, in short, he ought to go. I know,” added she, with a bewitching smile, “how little there is for me to instruct Mr. M’Kinlay on a point where tact and delicacy are the weapons to be employed. I feel all the presumption of such a pretence, and therefore I merely say, induce him to go his way, and let him do it in such guise that my brother may not suspect our interference.”
“There is nothing I would not do, Miss Courtenay, with the mere possibility that you would deem it a service. All I ask is the assurance——”