Lord Ashbridge held his head very high.
“That would be completely out of the question,” he said.
All this, Michael felt, had nothing to do with the problem of his mother and himself. It was outside it altogether, and concerned only his father’s convenience. He was willing to press this point as far as possible.
“I had imagined you would stop in London,” he said. “Supposing under these circumstances I refuse to live with you?”
“I should draw my own conclusion as to the sincerity of your profession of duty towards your mother.”
“And practically what would you do?” asked Michael.
“Your mother and I would go to Ashbridge tomorrow all the same.”
Another alternative suddenly suggested itself to Michael which he was almost ashamed of proposing, for it implied that his father put his own convenience as outweighing any other consideration. But he saw that if only Lord Ashbridge was selfish enough to consent to it, it had manifest merits. His mother would be alone with him, free of the presence that so disconcerted her.
“I propose, then,” he said, “that she and I should remain in town, as you want to be at Ashbridge.”
He had been almost ashamed of suggesting it, but no such shame was reflected in his father’s mind. This would relieve him of the perpetual embarrassment of his wife’s presence, and the perpetual irritation of Michael’s. He had persuaded himself that he was making a tremendous personal sacrifice in proposing that Michael should live with them, and this relieved him of the necessity.