“And you are going to run away, now the old gentleman is come in?” said Touchwood—“Come, sir, I am more your friend than you may think.”
“Sir, you are intrusive—I want nothing that you can give me,” said Mowbray.
“That is a mistake,” answered the senior; “for I can supply you with what most young men want—money and wisdom.”
“You will do well to keep both till they are wanted,” said Mowbray.
“Why, so I would, squire, only that I have taken something of a fancy for your family; and they are supposed to have wanted cash and good counsel for two generations, if not for three.”
“Sir,” said Mowbray, angrily, “you are too old either to play the buffoon, or to get buffoon's payment.”
“Which is like monkey's allowance, I suppose,” said the traveller, “more kicks than halfpence.—Well—at least I am not young enough to quarrel with boys for bullying. I'll convince you, however, Mr. Mowbray, that I know some more of your affairs than what you give me credit for.”
“It may be,” answered Mowbray, “but you will oblige me more by minding your own.”
“Very like; meantime, your losses to-night to my Lord Etherington are no trifle, and no secret neither.”
“Mr. Touchwood, I desire to know where you had your information?” said Mowbray.