He came forward with his right hand on his heart and bowed to my aunt, who swept him a space-filling curtsey, as he said quite pleasantly, “Good-afternoon, Cousin Gainor; your servant, Mr. Wilson.” To me he bent slightly, but gave no other greeting. It was all easy, tranquil, and without sign of embarrassment, As he spoke he moved toward the table, on which Mr. Wilson had laid his papers and bag. Now, as always, a certain deliberate feline grace was in all his movements.
“For a truth, he is a beauty,” said my Aunt Gainor after our meeting was over. “And well-proportioned, but no bit of him Wynne. He has not our build.” Nor had he.
“Pray be seated,” said my aunt. “I have asked my friend and counsel, Mr. James Wilson, to be present, that he may impartially set before you a family matter, in which your father may have interest. My nephew, Hugh Wynne, is here at my earnest solicitation. I regret that Mr. Chew is unable, by reason of engagements, to do me a like favour. Mr. Wilson will have the kindness to set before you the nature of the case.”
Mistress Wynne, sitting straight and tall in a high cap, spoke with dignified calmness.
“At your service, madam,” said the lawyer, looking Arthur over with the quick glance of a ready observer. Before he could go on to do as he was bidden I found my chance to say, “You will be so good, Mr. Wilson, as to state Mr. Owen Wynne’s case, as well as our own, with entire frankness; we have no desire to wrong any, and least of all one of our blood.”
“I think I understand you fully,” said Wilson. “A deed has been put in the hands of Mr. Attorney-General Chew and myself, and as to its value and present validity an opinion has been asked by Mistress Wynne and her nephew.”
“Pardon me,” said Arthur; “is not my Cousin John the proper person to consider this question?”
“Assuredly,” returned Mr. Wilson, “if his state of mind permitted either his presence or an opinion. No interests will be affected by his absence, nor can we do more than acquaint those who are now here with what, as lawyers, we think.”
“I see,” said Arthur. “Pray go on.”
“This deed seems to convey to my client’s grandfather—that is to say, Mistress Wynne’s father—certain lands situate in Merionethshire, Wales. I understand that you, sir, represent the present holder.”