“That I could invite them, and they accept my invitation, is the best reply to those who would, in their malevolence, misinterpret whatever may have fallen from me. The wound of a sharp arrow is never very painful till some inexpert bungler endeavors to withdraw the weapon. It is then that agony becomes excruciating, and peril imminent.”
“I suppose I am the bungler, then?”
“Heaven forbid I should say so! but as I have often warned you, Haire, your turn for sarcasm is too strong for even your good sense. When you have shotted your gun with a good joke, you will make a bull's eye of your best friend.”
“By George, then, I don't know myself, that's all; and I could as easily imagine myself a rich man as a witty one.”
“You are rich in gifts more precious than money; and you have the quintessence of all wit in that property that renders you suggestive; it is like what chemists call latent heat. But to return to Mrs. Sewell: she met my son at the Cape, and reports favorably of his health and prospects.”
“Poor fellow! what a banishment he must feel it!”
“I wonder, sir, how many of us go through life without sacrifices! She says that he goes much into the world, and is already very popular in the society of the place,—a great and happy change to a man who had suffered his indolence and self-indulgence to master him. Had he remained at home, I might have been able to provide for him. George Ogle's place is vacant, and I am determined to exercise my right of appointment.”
“First Registrar, was he not?”
“Yes; a snug berth for incapacity,—one thousand a year. Ogle made more of it by means we shall not inquire into, but which shall not be repeated.”
“You ought to give it to your grandson,” said Haire, bluntly.