“How can you bring that about?”
“Never mind. Nothing shall be done to hurt your pride. My part in the matter is simple enough. I give you and Tom Valentine an opportunity of becoming acquainted with each other. I have a place at Putney—a charming place. You shall pay me a visit there.”
“I won’t go,” I said.
“Yes, you will go—you will do what I tell you.”
“No,” I repeated; “you ask me to Putney for an object. You mean to conquer me—I won’t be conquered. I shall be very glad to visit you, if you will be kind enough to invite me on another occasion. But I am not going to meet Mr Valentine; I am not going to meet him, because at last I know the contents of Cousin Geoffrey’s will.”
Mr Gray rubbed his hands with impatience. “You are doing wrong,” he said stoutly. “You are offered a gift which will befriend you and yours, which will help your mother who is ill.”
“How do you know my mother is ill?” I asked testily.
The lawyer gave me a piercing glance, he turned away.
“Your mother is not well,” he said evasively. It was curious, but that tone in his voice broke me down. I said—
“A visit to you, after all, involves nothing. Say no more about it—I will come.”