“Nor I neither, sir.”
“Then follow Harry Ormond directly, and make him understand that he misunderstood you,” said Sir Ulick.
“Excuse me, sir—I cannot bend to him,” said Marcus.
“And you expect that he will lend you ten thousand pounds at your utmost need?”
“The money, with your estate, can be easily raised elsewhere, sir,” said Marcus.
“I tell you it cannot, sir,” said the father.
“I cannot bend to Ormond, sir: to any body but him—any thing but that—my pride cannot stoop to that.”
“Your pride!—‘pride that licks the dust,’” thought Sir Ulick. It was in vain for the politic father to remonstrate with the headstrong son. The whole train which Sir Ulick had laid with so much skill, was, he feared, at the moment when his own delicate hand was just preparing to give the effective touch, blown up by the rude impatience of his son. Sir Ulick, however, never lost time or opportunity in vain regret for the past. Even in the moment of disappointment, he looked to the future. He saw the danger of keeping two young men together, who had such incompatible tempers and characters. He was, therefore, glad when he met Ormond again, to hear him propose his returning to Annaly, and he instantly acceded to the proposal.
“Castle Hermitage, I know, my dear boy, cannot be as pleasant to you just now, as I could wish to make it: we have nobody here now, and Marcus is not all I could wish him,” said Sir Ulick, with a sigh. “He had always a jealousy of my affection for you, Harry—it cannot be helped—we do not choose our own children—but we must abide by them—you must perceive that things are not going on quite rightly between my son and me.”
“I am sorry for it, sir; especially as I am convinced I can do no good, and therefore wish not to interfere.”