“Yes; and therefore Sir Philip will not only be suffering, but inflicting a misfortune.”
“I may remind you, sir, that Dick has only to listen to reason.”
“Dick's mind is made up; and can you, sir, who know these Shaftheads, expect them to abandon their resolutions so easily? From whom has he inherited his firmness and tenacity? From his father, of course; and he from that long line of ancestors who have made the name of Shafthead honorable since the days of Edward the Third! The warrior who was ennobled on the field of Blenheim has not left descendants of milk and water!”
“I am perfectly aware that Dick is obstinate as the devil,” replied the baronet, but this time in a tone that seemed to have in it a trace of something not unlike satisfaction.
“And so, sir, his father will be ruthlessly discarding a second daughter-in-law.”
At these words the change that came over the baronet was so sudden and violent that I almost repented of having uttered them.
“What do you mean?” he exclaimed, in a stifled voice. “Dick didn't tell you? He does not know!”
“No,” I replied. “I learned it through an old companion in arms of Major Shafthead.”
For a moment there was a pause. Then he said, in a steadier voice:
“And does this seem to you an argument for permitting another son to commit an act of folly?”