"Ah, ah, trust me," said the Squire, doggedly and with a very altered air, "I am much obliged to you for these hints, my young kinsman." And his stout hand trembled a little as he extended it to Randal.
Leaving Limmer's, Randal hastened to Frank's rooms in St. James's Street. "My dear fellow," said he, when he entered, "it is very fortunate that I persuaded you to let me break matters to your father. You might well say he was rather passionate; but I have contrived to soothe him. You need not fear that he will not pay your debts."
"I never feared that," said Frank changing color; "I only fear his anger. But, indeed, I feared his kindness still more. What a reckless hound I have been! However, it shall be a lesson to me. And my debts once paid, I will turn as economical as yourself."
"Quite right, Frank. And, indeed, I am a little afraid that when your father knows the total, he may execute a threat that would be very unpleasant to you."
"What's that?"
"Make you sell out, and give up London."
"The devil!" exclaimed Frank, with fervent emphasis; "that would be treating me like a child."
"Why, it would make you seem rather ridiculous to your set, which is not a very rural one. And you, who like London so much, and are so much the fashion."
"Don't talk of it," cried Frank, walking to and fro the room in great disorder.
"Perhaps on the whole, it might be well not to say all you owe, at once. If you named half the sum, your father would let you off with a lecture; and really I tremble at the effect of the total."