Paul was speechless, and Mr. Lambert, mistaking his astonished silence, for a calm acceptance of what he had said, now drew forth a large parchment from a drawer of his desk, and spread it out with a pompous air.
“This, my boy, is the family tree of the Winklers, which establishes your claim to your inheritance. Here, you see—” his broad forefinger began to trace the branches, “Johann Winkler had two sons, Frederick and Samuel. Frederick, the elder had two sons, also Samuel and Johann. In this case, the younger became the Baker, and Samuel became a hardware merchant in Missouri. Thus, Johann was the father of your Aunt Gertrude, and your father, who also relinquished his inheritance, like Esau—”
“But what of Samuel’s children?” stammered Paul. “Maybe he has a son or a grandson—”
“However that may be they have forfeited their claims,” replied Mr. Lambert. “No, you need have no fears of any disputes, my boy. Surely, your father must have acquainted you with all these matters which relate to you so closely.”
“My father never even mentioned anything of the sort!” exclaimed Paul, pushing back his chair, as if he were thinking of sudden flight.
“I need hardly tell you that you are doubly welcome, my dear boy,” continued Mr. Lambert placidly, totally misunderstanding Paul’s astonishment.
“But, sir! One moment! I don’t understand! You surely can’t mean that you think I am going to learn how to bake bread, and make pies!” burst out Paul at last. “Great heavens! My father couldn’t have dreamed—I! Making biscuits!”
“And why not, pray?” demanded Mr. Lambert, sharply. “Am I to understand that you consider yourself too good for a profession that the great Johann Winkler thought worthy of his genius? Is it that you do not consider it manly? Surely, you do not mean me to understand this?” Mr. Lambert’s face hardened a little; the expression of bland benevolence left his eyes, which now grew cold and piercing. He had not expected rebellion, but recovering quickly from his surprise he prepared to cope with it as only he could.
“Of course I don’t mean that, sir!” exclaimed Paul. “But don’t you see—I can’t—I’m not fitted for such work. I couldn’t learn how to bake a pie in a life time. I—”
“Oh, I am sure you underrate your intelligence, my boy. Don’t give way to discouragement so soon. A little patience, a little industry—”