"Wait till you hear, before you condemn!" answered our guest.
But here my mother interposed. The gentleman was surely too weary and hungry to be kept discoursing of business. He should be shown to his chamber, and then come to supper with us, before he said another word.
"And so she has kept Jos Penrose waiting on her like a slave all these years, managing for her, and serving her more like a servant than a kinsman, only to bilk him at last," said my father.
"I would not have been kept waiting!" said Harry. "I would have struck out something for myself."
"You would not if you had been Joslyn," answered my father. "He was not one to do so. He could manage well enough for others, but never could keep two groats together for himself. Besides that his life was spoiled by a woman, as many another man's life has been, and will be. Take care, Harry, my son, that you pay him all due kindness and deference."
By this time our guest had come back, and was soon seated at the table, each of us being presented to him in turn. When my turn came, Master Penrose looked earnestly at me, as if he had some special interest in me.
"So this is the young lady," said he, smiling somewhat sadly. "In truth, though favor may be deceitful and beauty vain, as the wise man said, Mistress Rosamond hath that in her face that makes me rejoice in her good fortune."
"Rosamond is a good maiden, as maidens go," said my father: "but what mean you, Joslyn? What good fortune hath befallen her? Has my aunt left her guardian of her popinjay, or given her the reversion of that black damask gown, I remember so well?"
"More than that!" answered Master Penrose. "Mistress Rosamond is sole heir to Tremador, and all its appurtenances. 'Tis a fine estate, for our part of the world—not less than an hundred and fifty a year, though saddled with a life annuity of twenty pounds a year to myself. Also, I am to have my nest for life in the old tower where I have lived so long, and a seat at table and in hall, unless Mistress Rosamond objects."
"Mistress Rosamond is no child of her father's if she does!" said Sir Stephen. "But are you sure? 'Tis passing strange! I thought she would make you her heir, or else leave all to the convent yonder. Rosamond was her namesake, 'tis true, but she has never taken any more notice of the child than to send her some old-fashioned gewgaws once on a time. 'Tis not right nor fair, Joslyn! You should have been the heir, and not my daughter."