“I come, Sir Thomas Gourlay, to seek for an explanation on a subject of the deepest importance to the party under whose wishes and instructions I act.”
“That party, sir,” replied the baronet, who alluded to his daughter, “has forfeited every right to give you instructions on that, or any other subject where I am concerned. And, indeed, to speak candidly, I hardly know whether more to admire her utter want of all shame in deputing you on such a mission, or your own immeasurable effrontery in undertaking it.”
“Sir Thomas Gourlay,” replied the stranger, with a proud smile on his lips, “I beg to assure you, once for all, that it is not my intention to notice, much less return, such language as you have now applied to me. Whatever you may forget, sir, I entreat you to remember that you are addressing a gentleman, who is anxious in this interview, as well as upon all occasions when we may meet, to treat you with courtesy. And I beg to say now, that I regret the warmth of my language to you, though not unprovoked, on a former occasion.”
“Oh, much obliged, sir,” replied the baronet, with a low, ironical inclination of the head, indicative of the most withering contempt; “much obliged, sir. Perhaps you would honor me with your patronage, too. I dare say that will be the next courtesy. Well, I can't say but I am a fortunate fellow. Will you have the goodness, however, to proceed, sir, and open your negotiations? unless, in the true diplomatic spirit, you wish to keep me in ignorance of its real object.”
“It is a task that I enter upon with great pain,” replied the other, without noticing the offensive politeness of the baronet, “because I am aware that there are associations connected with it, which you, as a father, cannot contemplate without profound sorrow.”
“Don't rest assured of that,” said Sir Thomas. “Your philosophy may lead you astray there. A sensible man, sir, never regrets that which is worthless.”
The stranger looked a good deal surprised; however, he opened the negotiation, as the baronet said, in due form.
“I believe, Sir Thomas Gourlay,” he proceeded, “you remember that the son and heir of your late brother, Sir Edward Gourlay, long deceased, disappeared very mysteriously some sixteen or eighteen years ago, and has been lost to the family ever since.”
“Oh, sir,” exclaimed the baronet, with no little surprise, “I beg your pardon. Your exordium was so singularly clear, that I did not understand you before. Pray proceed.”
“I trust, then, you understand me now, sir,” replied the stranger; “and I trust you will understand me better before we part.”