Chapter Eighteen.
“Anthony Miles is gone to London,” said Mr Robert Mannering, walking into the library of the Red House, on the day following that described in the last chapter.
Mr Mannering looked with a shiver at the door his brother had left open behind him. He had a cold, and a great many theories about its treatment.
“I don’t know what good he can do himself by going up,” added Mr Robert in a perturbed tone.
“He will be able to see Pitt,” suggested Mr Mannering, drawing nearer the fire.
“I wish I could feel there was any chance of his convincing Pitt. It’s a bad business, Charles.”
Mr Mannering looked up with a little surprise; for although his brother frequently indulged in cynical speeches, he had never yet known him to believe in them, or take anything but a largely hopeful view of individualised human nature.
“My dear Robert—would you object to shutting the door?—”
“I beg your pardon,” said Mr Robert hastily, doing as he was requested with an abstracted bang, which made Mr Mannering wince. But he went on.
“Look calmly at the matter. What do we know of the contents of that letter? How is it possible to judge of the terms in which the suggestion was made?—of the burden it may have inflicted upon Anthony?”