“And you do not know where he is now?”
“Not in the very least; abroad most likely, for the sunny south suited his pleasure-loving nature best. He had no energy, and I hate men without it. Men are born to fight in the battle of life, but John Temple stood smiling at it; he will never succeed in anything, and I love success.”
“And you have achieved it.”
“Not as much as I wish, but I am fighting for it, and will fight to the end. John Temple is a dreamer; but we can not live in dreams. Had he been worth anything his name would have been known now at the bar, as yours is.”
“And—” hesitated Webster, “you have heard nothing of him lately?”
“Not a word. But you seem interested? Have you ever met him?”
“I think not,” answered Webster. “Do you know to what family of Temples he belongs?”
“I can not even tell you that. He told me he was a younger son’s son, I remember, and he was fairly well off, and by no means given to extravagance, though in his first ardor he actually gave me the diamond earrings that so nearly got me into trouble—but for you.”
“It is kind of you to say so.”