Virginia had scarcely ever seen him; his father and uncle had so resented his determination to sell the estate, though it had perhaps been the wisest resolve he had ever come to, that he had been to them as an enemy.
But still the chief sense in all their minds was that the definite, if distasteful, prospect, to which they had been beginning to look forward, had melted away, and that all the future was chaos.
Dick, suddenly became a person of importance, and now within a month or two of coming of age, was sent for from London. He had improved in looks and manner, and seemed duly impressed with the gravity of the situation. He was told what Roland’s intentions had been, and that his father’s life could not be prolonged for many months; listened to Mr Seyton’s faltering and confused explanations of the state of affairs, and to his uncle’s more vigorous, but not much more lucid, denunciation of it. Dick said not a word in reply, he asked a few questions, and at last went down into the drawing-room where his sister was sitting alone. He walked over to the window and stood looking out of it.
“Virginia,” he said, “I don’t wish to sell Elderthwaite.”
“Do you think it can be helped, Dick?” she said, eagerly.
“I don’t know. I’m not in debt like Roland—that is, anything to speak of. I don’t want to wipe the family out of the county for good and all. Why couldn’t the place be let for a term of years?”
“But—it is so much out of repair!”
“Yes,” said Dick, shrewdly, “but it’s an awfully gentlemanly-looking place yet. Fellows who have made a fortune in trade want to get their position settled before they buy an estate, or to make a little more money first. I heard Mr Stanforth talking about some old place in the south where there were fine pictures, which had been let in that way. Well then, of course, some sacrifices must be made; something was done with the money Cheriton Lester paid for Uplands. Then there’s all that part out Ashrigg way—Cuddiwell, you know, and High Ashrigg. Those two farms have always paid rent. If they were sold—they’re handy either for the Lesters or the Hubbards—we might put things to rights a little in that way.”
“I am glad you care about Elderthwaite, Dick,” said Virginia, impetuously.
“Oh, as to that,” returned Dick, “I don’t know that I go in for any sentiment about it. Of course, I couldn’t live here for years to come. I’m not quite such a fool as I was once, Virginia, thanks to you and some others I could name; and I should go on as I am for the present. But it makes a difference in a man’s position to have a place like this in the background, even if it is tumbling to pieces. A girl with money might think twice whether she wouldn’t be Mrs Seyton of Elderthwaite.”