“No, no, no! Of course not, my lady. Nothing could be further from my thoughts.” The old baronet vainly endeavoured, as he spoke, to meet the suspicious gaze of the lady’s still penetrating and bright eyes.
“We are not so particular about the spindle,” she resumed with some condescension; “but in the sword line we must be represented duly; and we never could be supplanted by a Chapman.”
“Gadzooks, madam, are the Chapmans dirt? But in order to show how you wrong us, my lady, I will tell you what I am come to propose.”
Herewith he looked very impressive, and leaned both hands on his stick, as if inditing of an excellent matter. And thus he set forth his scheme, which bore at first sight a fair and magnanimous face; as if all that large sum of money were given, or without security trusted, for no other purpose, except to save a life precious to both families. The old lady listened with prudent reserve, yet an inward sense of relief, and even a faint suspicious gratitude. She was too old now to digest very freely any generous sentiment. Blessed are they who, crossing the limit of human years, can carry with them faith in worn humanity.
CHAPTER LXI.
A SAMPLE FROM KENT.
Of all trite proverbs, no truer there is in the affairs of men (perhaps because in the kingdom of the clouds so untrue) than this venerable saying—“It never rains, but what it pours.” The Chapmans had come, with a storm of cash, to wash away Hilary’s obstructions; and now on that very same day there appeared a smaller, but more kindly cloud, to drop its little fatness.
Just when Sir Roland had managed to get rid (at the expense of poor Alice perhaps) of that tedious half-born Stephen Chapman, the indefatigable Trotman came, with his volatile particles uppermost. “If you plaize, sir,” he said, “I can’t stop un at all. He saith as he will see you.”
“Well, if he will, he must, of course. But who is this man of such resolute mind?”