“I am deeply obliged to you, Mrs. Macallan—”
“‘Mother!’”
“I am deeply obliged to you, mother, for the interest that you take in me, but I cannot give it up. Right or wrong, risk or no risk, I must and I will try it!”
Mrs. Macallan looked at me very attentively, and sighed to herself.
“Oh, youth, youth!” she said to herself, sadly. “What a grand thing it is to be young!” She controlled the rising regret, and turned on me suddenly, almost fiercely, with these words: “What, in God’s name, do you mean to do?”
At the instant when she put the question, the idea crossed my mind that Mrs. Macallan could introduce me, if she pleased, to Miserrimus Dexter. She must know him, and know him well, as a guest at Gleninch and an old friend of her son.
“I mean to consult Miserrimus Dexter,” I answered, boldly.
Mrs. Macallan started back from me with a loud exclamation of surprise.
“Are you out of your senses?” she asked.
I told her, as I had told Major Fitz-David, that I had reason to think Mr. Dexter’s advice might be of real assistance to me at starting.