Chapter Twenty Three.
How Tregenna Hooked his Fish.
There was, of course, a reason for the banker’s actions.
John Tregenna had at once taken advantage of the proposal that he should still be on friendly terms with the Penwynns, and, calling frequently and dining there, set himself, in a pleasant, frank manner, to remove any unpleasant feeling that might exist in Rhoda’s mind.
To her he was gentlemanly and courteous, without formality, showing in every way that it was his desire that the past should be forgotten. With Mr Penwynn he resumed his old business relations, and, as the banker’s confidential solicitor, he finished and carried through a tiresome law case, which ridded Mr Penwynn of a good deal of anxiety, and put five hundred pounds in his pocket.
“By the way,” he said, on the morning when he had brought in the news of the satisfactory settlement, and it had been discussed, “they want to sell Wheal Carnac.”
“So Chynoweth told me some little time back,” said Mr Penwynn. “I wish they may get a customer.”
“Well, so do I, if it comes to that,” said Tregenna, “because I am to have a hundred if I effect a sale.”
“And where will you get customers? Why, they’ve wasted no end in putting it up for auction in London, advertisements and one way and the other.”
“Yes, and that makes them willing now to part with the place for a mere song.”