The Squire signed the lease without paying the slightest attention to Mr. Quest’s explanations, and then suddenly asked him when the first interest on the recently-effected mortgages came due.
The lawyer mentioned a certain date.
“Ah,” said the Squire, “then it will have to be met; but it does not matter, it will be for the last time.”
Mr. Quest pricked up his ears and looked at him.
“The fact is, Quest,” he went on by way of explanation, “that there are—well—family arrangements pending which will put an end to these embarrassments in a natural and a proper way.”
“Indeed,” said Mr. Quest, “I am very glad to hear it.”
“Yes, yes,” said the Squire, “unfortunately I am under some restraints in speaking about the matter at present, or I should like to ask your opinion, for which as you know I have a great respect. Really, though, I do not know why I should not consult my lawyer on a matter of business; I only consented not to trumpet the thing about.”
“Lawyers are confidential agents,” said Mr. Quest quietly.
“Of course they are. Of course, and it is their business to hold their tongues. I may rely upon your discretion, may I not?”
“Certainly,” said Mr. Quest.