“No, sir. You have already done far more than ever you promised. You have given me all any man has a right to from his father. I am ready to go to London at once, and make my own living.”
“How?”
“I don't know yet; I should have to choose—thanks to you and my uncle!”
“In the meantime, you must be introduced to your stepmother.”
“Then—excuse me, sir Wilton—” interposed the parson, “do you wish me to regard my old friend Richard as your son and heir?”
“As my son, yes; as my heir—that will depend—”
“On his behaviour, I presume!” Wingfold ventured.
“I say nothing of the sort!” replied the baronet testily. “Would you have me doubt whether he will carry himself like a gentleman? The thing depends on my pleasure. There are others besides him.”
He rose to ring the bell. Richard started up to forestall his intent.
“Now, Richard,” said his father, turning sharp upon him, “don't be officious. Nothing shows want of breeding more than to do a thing for a man in his own house. It is a cursed liberty!”