"The less said about the matter the better," he answered, turning to his papers again. "At Greylands' Rest, now my son is gone, I cannot and will not stay: and George North--George Castlemaine--comes into possession of it."
"Do you resign to him the income of the estate as well as the house?" inquired Mrs. Castlemaine, as much mockery in her tone as she dared to use.
"The arrangements I choose to make with him are my own, Sophia, and are private between himself and me. Whithersoever I may go, I shall take as good an income with me as you have enjoyed here."
"And where shall you go?"
"I think at first we will travel for a bit. You have often expressed a wish for that. Afterwards we shall see. Perhaps you would like to settle in London, and for myself I care very little where it is."
A vision of the seductions of London--its shops, its shows, its theatres, its gay life generally--rose attractively, as in a vision, before Mrs. Castlemaine. She had never been to the metropolis in her life, and quite believed its streets were paved with gold.
"One thing I am surprised at, James," she resumed quitting that bone of contention for another. "That you should give consent off hand, as you tell me you have done, to Ethel's marriage with a stranger."
"A stranger! We have seen a good deal of him in the past few months; and he is my nephew."
"But a very disreputable kind of nephew. Really I must say it! He has concealed his name from us, and has aided and abetted that governess in concealing hers! It is not reputable."
"But I have explained the cause to you. The poor woman came to the place to seek out her husband, and thought she should have a better chance of success if she dropped his name and appeared as a stranger. George came over in his turn, and at her request dropped his. Remember one thing, Sophia, the concealment has not injured us; and Madame Guise has at least been an efficient governess for Flora, and done her duty well."