“But how has M. Pracontal taken this money and gone on with his suit?—surely both courses are not open to him?”
“I can tell you nothing about M. Pracontal. I only know that he, as well as myself, would seem to be strangely served by our respective lawyers, who assume to deal for us, whether we will or not.”
“I still cling to the wish that the matter had been left to Mr. Sedley.”
“You must not say so, Nelly; you must never tell me you would wish I had been a party to my own dishonor. Either Pracontal or I own this estate; no compromise could be possible without a stain to each of us, and for my own part, I will neither resist a just claim nor give way to an unfair demand. Let us talk of this no more.”
CHAPTER XXXVIII. WITH LORD CULDUFF.
In a room of a Roman palace large enough to be a church, but furnished with all the luxury of an English drawing-room, stood Lord Culduff, with his back to an ample fire, smoking a cigarette; a small table beside him supported a very diminutive coffee-service of chased silver, and in a deep-cushioned chair at the opposite side of the fireplace lay a toy terrier, asleep.
There were two fireplaces in the spacious chamber, and at a writing-table drawn close to the second of these sat Temple Bramleigh writing. His pen as it ran rapidly along was the only sound in the perfect stillness, till Lord Culduff, throwing the end of his cigarette away, said, “It is not easy to imagine so great an idiot as your worthy brother Augustus.”
“A little selfishness would certainly not disimprove him,” said Temple, coldly.
“Say sense, common sense, sir; a very little of that humble ingredient that keeps a man from walking into a well.”