"You are right, sir," returned Maxwell, pleased to see no better feeling between his rival and the uncle.
"But who is this Carroll?" said he.
"A hungry cub, whom the colonel has helped along in the world."
"Well, he has proved himself a brave and skilful officer, and reflects credit on your brother's judgment in the selection of a protegé," returned Maxwell, adroitly.
"The fellow is all well enough, for aught I know, but he has wheedled the colonel out of fifty thousand dollars, and I can never forgive him for that," said Jaspar, in what was intended for a playful tone, but which was designed as a "feeler" of the attorney's conscience.
"But there is still an immense property left, even after deducting the liberal charitable donations," said Maxwell.
"There is, but where does it go to? That whining young cub has divided a hundred thousand with me, and the silly girl has the rest."
"Which will eventually go into the hands of Captain Carroll,—lucky dog, he!" returned Maxwell, striving to provoke Jaspar still more.
"What! what mean you, man?" said Jaspar, with a scowl, as he caught a glimpse of the attorney's meaning.
"Is it possible, my dear sir," said Maxwell, laying down his pen, and turning half round, "is it possible you have not observed the intimacy which has grown up between this Carroll and your niece?"