‘Rather!’ observed Otho emphatically, with a nod, and what would have been a wink, only he remembered in time that such a testimony to Gilbert’s intelligence might be thought rather compromising than otherwise by his interlocutor. In his own mind, and speaking to Gilbert in his own language, Otho called Sir Thomas ‘a rum old party, and green as grass, you know,’ and this private opinion, which he held very strongly, rendered it a little difficult to him to meet the other now on equal terms.
Sir Thomas went on—
‘He has behaved in a very admirable way to his father, and I always like to see that in a youth. He has almost retrieved their affairs, which were in a deplorable condition.’
His voice took a confidentially funereal tone, and he shook his head.
‘Yes, I know,’ said Otho, vaguely, and at this juncture he caught Gilbert’s eye, and indulged in the luxury of the wink, which, in regard to Sir Thomas, he had had to suppress. Gilbert’s countenance did not alter a jot, but he became watchful.
‘Of course,’ resumed Sir Thomas, for whom the subject appeared to have a fatal fascination, ‘a young man, who has had to do battle with reverses, as he has, is apt to think his affairs are the centre of the universe, and that every one else is as much concerned in them as he is himself.’
To this Otho said nothing, but he regarded Sir Thomas with a curious, bull-dog expression.
‘I’m afraid he is just a little rash in some things,’ Sir Thomas went on. ‘For instance, there’s that property by the river—those Townend mills. I have heard that he is bent upon setting them to work again.’ And as Otho made no reply ‘Do you know if he has any project of that kind?’
In the fulness of his heart and head he had not moderated his tones sufficiently; and, as the loud conversation about them had somewhat lulled, this question was distinctly audible, not only to Otho, but to many others, even so far down as where Gilbert Langstroth and Byrom Winthrop sat. The former, though no names had been spoken, knew with unerring certainty, that it was himself to whom the baronet alluded; and Byrom Winthrop said within himself, ‘If only I were near enough to stop the governor! He’s perfectly infatuated about those factories of Gilbert Langstroth’s, and he’ll go and say something he ought not to.’
Otho’s answer came quite distinctly too, in bluff, curt tones.