“I concluded that,” said Hatton, “when you spoke of family matters bringing you here; he is the only relation I have in this world, and therefore it must be of him.”
“It is of him,” said Morley.
“Has he sent anything?”
“Hem!” said Morley, who was by nature a diplomatist, and instantly comprehended his position, being himself pumped when he came to pump; but he resolved not to precipitate the affair. “How late is it since you heard from him?” he asked.
“Why, I suppose you know,” said Hatton, “I heard as usual.”
“From his usual place?” inquired Morley.
“I wish you would tell me where that is,” said Hatton, eagerly.
“Why, he writes to you?”
“Blank letters; never had a line except once, and that is more than twelve year ago. He sends me a twenty-pound note every Christmas; and that is all I know about him.”
“Then he is rich, and well to do in the world? said Morley.”