MacNaghten could not help remarking that Fagan's manner, when speaking of my father's affairs, was characterized by a more than common caution and reserve, and that he strenuously avoided entering upon anything which bore, however remotely, upon the provision my mother was to enjoy, or what arrangements were to be made respecting myself. There was a will, he thought, in Crowther's possession; but it was of the less consequence, since the greater part, nearly all, of the Carew property was under the strictest entail.
“The boy will be rich, one of the richest men in Ireland, if he lives,” said MacNaghten; but Fagan made no reply for some time, and at last said,—
“If there be not good sense and moderation exercised on all sides, the Carews may gain less than will the Court of Chancery.”
MacNaghten felt far from reassured by the cautious and guarded reserve of Fagan's manner; he saw that in the dry, sententious tone of his remarks there lurked difficulties, and perhaps troubles; but he resolved to devote himself to the task before him in a spirit of patience and calm industry which, unhappily for him, he had never brought to bear upon his own worldly fortunes.
“There is nothing either obtrusive or impertinent,” said he, at last, to Fagan, “in my making these inquiries, for, independently of poor Walter's affection for me, I know that he always expected me to take the management of his affairs, should I survive him; and if there be a will, it is almost certain that I am named his executor in it.”
Fagan nodded affirmatively, and merely said,—
“Crowther will be able to clear up this point.”
“And when shall we see him?”
“He is in the country, down south, I think, at this moment; but he will be up by the end of the week. However, there are so many things to be done that his absence involves no loss of time. Where shall I address you, if I write?”
“I shall return to Castle Carew this evening, and in all probability remain there till I hear from you.”