There was a strength and decision in Matthew which he could not altogether resist, and moreover the baronet realized the fact that he was growing old, and he could not afford to quarrel with Matthew, as he had in past days with his sons Gilbert and Wilfrid. Matthew with his lameness and consequent weakness was very dear to the old man's heart, and it was still his darling wish that Matthew might yet marry, and have a son who should inherit The Towers.
But Matthew thought otherwise, and his heart yearned over his eldest brother's children. Of their mother, he knew but little, as all intercourse had long ago been forbidden, and to please his father, he had given way in this respect, though now he sorely blamed himself for such weakness. Of Mrs. Wilfrid Rose he had no particularly pleasant recollections; in the days of the past she had been an intensely proud woman, and her departure from The Towers was rather a relief than otherwise, He had almost fancied that she scorned his weakness, and Matthew on this point was very sensitive.
Heedless of the cloud on his father's brow, he pursued his subject fearlessly.
"I want to see Hugh's wife and her children," he said.
"Then you'll do it in direct opposition to my will," was the angry retort. "I repeat, you must be mad to think of such a thing."
"It is not such a very long journey, father, after all—I suppose about forty miles—and besides, I shall take Hickson with me," answered Matthew soothingly.
"Well, if you've made up your mind, of course it's no use for me to seek to alter it, only understand I am not going to have a troop of unruly children here."
"I understand, father," said Matthew; "you must just humour this little whim of mine, because I have a feeling that good will come of my visit to Linwell."
"H'm!" was all the baronet retorted. But nevertheless a kindly gleam came into his eyes after Matthew had left the room.
"He's a good lad, is Matthew," he muttered. "I shall miss him sorely."