“One for which you feel interested; so much I can at least assure you. Indeed,” added he, with a more rhetorical flourish of manner, “it is a case that would enlist the kindly sympathies of every generous heart.”
“Yes, yes—I understand; a poor family—a distressed tradesman—a sick wife—ailing children. Don’t tell me any details; they are always the same—always painful. I will subscribe, of course. I only wonder how you chanced upon them. But never mind; count on me, Mr. M’Kinlay: pray do.”
She was turning impatiently away, when he followed, and said, “You have totally misapprehended me, Miss Courtenay. It was not of a poor person I was thinking at all. It was of a very rich one. I was about to bespeak your interest for Sir Within Wardle.”
“For Sir Within Wardle! What do you mean, Sir?” said she, in a voice tremulous with feeling, and with a flush on her cheek, which, in the faint light, fortunately Mr. M’Kinlay failed to remark.
“Yes, Miss Courtenay. It is of him I have come to speak. It is possible I might not have taken this liberty, but in a recent conversation I have held with Mr. Grenfell, he assured me that you, of all others, were the person to whom I ought to address myself.”
“Indeed, Sir,” said she, with a stern, cold manner. “May I ask what led your friend to this conclusion?”
“The great friendship felt by this family for Sir Within, the sincere interest taken by all in his welfare,” said he, hurriedly and confusedly, for her tone had alarmed him, without his knowing why or for what.
“Go on, Sir; finish what you have begun.”
“I was going to mention to you, Miss Courtenay,” resumed he, in a most confidential voice, “that Sir Within had sent for me to his room yesterday morning, to confer with him on certain matters touching his property. I was not aware before what a large amount was at his disposal, nor how free he was to burden the landed estate, for it seems that his life-interest was the result of a certain family compact. But I ask your pardon for details that can only weary you.”
“On the contrary, M’Kinlay, it is a subject you have already made as interesting as a novel. Pray go on.”