“I have made you an offer, sir. It is for you to say whether you are willing to accept it.”
“Seeing that you offer me two hundred pounds more than I ever hoped to get, I’m not such an ass as to say, No. Only I think you are robbing yourself. I do indeed, Bristow; and that’s what I don’t like to see.”
“I think, sir, that I’m pretty well able to look after my own interests,” said Tom, with a meaning smile. “Am I to consider that Knockley Holt is to become my property?”
“Of course you are, boy—of course you are. But I must say that you are a little bit of a simpleton to give me twelve hundred when you might have it for a thousand.”
“An offer’s an offer, and I’ll abide by mine.”
“Then there’s nothing more to be said: I’ll see my lawyer about the deeds to-morrow.”
Tom shook hands with the Squire and went in search of Jane.
“Perhaps I may come in now,” said Mrs. McDermott five minutes later, as she opened the door of her brother’s room.
“Of course you may,” said the Squire. “Young Bristow and I were talking over some business affairs before, that would have had no interest for you, and that you know nothing about.”
“It’s about young Bristow, as you call him, that I have come to see you this morning.”