“His lordship remains with his mother to-night. To-morrow I will bring him to the Castle.”
The Earl’s elbow was resting on the arm of his chair; he put his hand up and shielded his eyes with it.
“Well?” he said; “go on. What kind of a lad is he? I don’t care about the mother; what sort of a lad is he? Healthy and well grown?”
“Apparently very healthy, and quite well grown,” replied the lawyer.
[“Straight-limbed] and well enough to look at?” demanded the Earl.
A very slight smile touched Mr. Havisham’s thin lips.
“Rather a handsome boy, I think, my lord, as boys go,” he said, “though I am scarcely a judge, perhaps.”
There was a silence of a few moments. It was Mr. Havisham who broke it.
“I have a message to deliver from Mrs. Errol,” he remarked.
“I don’t want any of her messages!” growled his lordship; “the less I hear of her the better.”