"Thank you for the concession," sneered Cleve.
"I make it unaffectedly, Mr. Cleve Verney," replied Larkin, graciously.
"My uncle, Lord Verney, has given me leave to talk to you upon the subject. I venture to decline that privilege. I prefer speaking to him. He seems to think that I ought to be allowed to advise a little in the matter, and that with every respect for his wishes; mine also are entitled to be a little considered. Should I ever talk to you, Mr. Larkin, it shan't be to ask your advice. I'm detaining you, sir, and I'm also a little busy myself."
Mr. Larkin looked at the young man a second or two a little puzzled; but encountering only a look of stern impatience, he made his best bow, and the conference ended.
A few minutes later, in came our old friend, Tom Sedley.
"Oh! Sedley! Very glad to see you here; but I thought you did not want to see my uncle just now; and this is the most likely place, except the library, to meet him in."
"He's gone; I saw him go out this moment. I should not have come in otherwise; and you mustn't send me away, dear Cleve, I'm in such awful trouble. Everything has gone wrong with us at Hazelden. You know that quarrying company—the slates, that odious fellow, Larkin, led him into, before the election and all the other annoyances began."
"You mean the Llanrwyd company?"
"Yes; so I do."
"But that's quite ruined, you know. Sit down."