“I had hoped her consent was given on better grounds, but it may be as you say. Since I have turned miner, Trafford,” added he, laughing, “I am always well content if I discover a grain of silver in a bushel of dross, and let us take the world in the same patient way.”
“When do you intend to go to the Priory?”
“I thought of going this evening. I meant to devote the morning to these maps and drawings, so that I might master the details before I should show them to my friends at night.”
“Couldn't that be deferred? I mean, is there anything against your going over at once? I 'll own to you I am very uneasy lest some incorrect version of this affair with Sewell should get abroad. Even without any malevolence there is plenty of mischief done by mere blundering, and I would rather anticipate than follow such disclosures.”
“I perceive,” said Sir Brook, musingly, as with longing eyes he looked over the colored plans and charts which strewed the table, and had for him all the charm of a romance.
“Then,” resumed Trafford, “Lucy should have my mother's letter. It might be that she ought to reply to it at once.”
“Yes, I perceive,” mused Sir Brook again.
“I 'm sure, besides, it would be very politic in you to keep up the good relations you have so cleverly established with the Chief; he holds so much to every show of attention, and is so flattered by every mark of polite consideration for him.”
“And for all these good reasons,” said Sir Brook, slowly, “you would say, we should set out at once. Arriving there, let us say, for luncheon, and being begged to stay and dine,—which we certainly should,—we might remain till, not impossibly, midnight.”
Perhaps it was the pleasure of such a prospect sent the blood to Trafford's face, for he blushed very deeply as he said, “I don't think, sir, I have much fault to find with your arrangement.”