“Thank you,” she said, bowed to Wingfold, and left the room.
Sir Wilton sat like an offended turkey-cock, staring after her. “By Jove!” he seemed to say to himself.
“There! that's over!” he cried, coming to himself. “Ring the bell, Richard, and let us have lunch.—Richard, no gentleman could have behaved better! I am proud of you!—It's blood that does it!” he murmured to himself.
As if he had himself compounded both his own blood and his boy's in the still-room of creation, he took all the credit of Richard's savoir faire, as he counted it. He did not know that the same thing made Wingfold happy and Richard a gentleman! Richard had had a higher breeding than was known to sir Wilton. At the court of courts, whence the manners of some other courts would be swept as dust from the floors, the baronet would hardly gain admittance!
Lady Ann went up the stair slowly and perpendicularly, a dull pain at her heart. The cause was not so much that her son was the second son, as that the son of the blacksmith's daughter was—she took care to say at first sight—a finer gentleman than her Arthur. Rank and position, she vaguely reflected, must not look for justice from the jealous heavens! They always sided with the poor! Just see the party-spirit of the Psalms! The rich and noble were hardly dealt with! Nowadays even the church was with the radicals!
The baronet was merry over his luncheon. The servants wondered at first, but before the soup was removed, they wondered no more: the young man at the table, in whom not one of them had recognized the bookbinder, was the lost heir to Mortgrange! He was worth finding, they agreed—one who would hold his own! The house would be merrier now—thank heaven! They liked Mr. Arthur well enough, but here was his master!
The meal was over, and the baronet always slept after lunch.
“You'll stay to dinner, won't you, Mr. Wingfold?” he said, rising. “—Richard, ring the bell. Better send for Mrs. Locke at once, and arrange with her where you will sleep.”
“Then I may choose my own room, sir?” rejoined Richard.
“Of course—but better not too near my lady's,” answered his father with a grim smile as he hobbled from the room.