“I must say, Mr. Balfour,” said she, as soon as she could speak,—“I must say there is ingenuity in your suggestion. The relations that subsist between Sir William and myself are precisely such as to recommend your project.”
“I am not so sure that they are obstacles to it. I have always heard that he had a poor opinion of his son, who was a common-place sort of man that studied medicine. It could be no part of the Chief Baron's plan to make such a person the head of a house. Now, he likes Sewell, and he dotes on that boy,—the little fellow I saw at the Priory. These are all elements in the scheme. Don't you think so?”
“Let me ask you one question before I answer yours: Does this thought come from yourself alone, or has it any origin in another quarter?”
“Am I to be candid?”
“You are.”
“And are you to be confidential?”
“Certainly.”
“In that case,” said he, drawing a long breath, as though about to remove a perilous weight off his mind, “I will tell you frankly, it comes from authority. Now, don't ask me more,—not another question. I have already avowed what my instructions most imperatively forbid me to own,—what, in fact, would be ruin to me if it were known that I revealed. What his Excellency—I mean, what the other person said was, 'Ascertain Lady Lendrick's wishes on this subject; learn, if you can,—but, above all, without compromising yourself,—whether she really cares for a step in rank; find out, if so, what aid she can or will lend us.' But what am I saying? Here am I entering upon the whole detail? What would become of me if I did not know I might rely upon you?”
“It's worth thinking over,” said she, after a pause.
“I should think it is. It is not every day of our lives such a brilliant offer presents itself. All I ask, all I stipulate for, is that you make no confidences, ask no advice from any quarter. Think it well over in your own mind, but impart it to none, least of all to Sewell.”