“George, if you don’t hold your tongue we shall be at outs, you and I!”
“Oh, very well!” growled George. “But when that ramshackle court-card starts talking as though he thought he ought to own Manifold, which has been in your family since the lord knows when—!”
“He doesn’t think anything of the sort. He thinks merely that he ought to own Broom Hall. But what would you do with it if you did own it, Laurie? I haven’t seen it, but I collect it’s a small estate, subsisting on the rents of various farms and holdings. Have you a fancy for setting up as an agriculturist?”
“No, I have not!” replied Laurence angrily. “If that sneaking screw had left it to me, I’d have sold it—which I don’t doubt you’ll do—as though you weren’t swimming in riches already!”
“Yes, you would have sold it, and wasted its price within six months. Well, I can put it to better use than that.” The smile crept back into his eyes; he said consolingly: “Does it comfort you to know that it won’t add to my riches? It won’t: quite the reverse, I daresay!”
Mr Wingham directed a sharply suspicious look at him, but it was Lady Lindeth who spoke, exclaiming incredulously: “What? Do you mean to tell me that that detestable old man wasn’t possessed of a handsome fortune after all?”
“Doing it rather too brown!” said Laurence, his not uncomely features marred by a sneer.
“I can’t tell you yet what he was possessed of, ma’am, but I’ve been given no reason to suppose that he’s made me heir to more than a competence—deriving, I collect, from the estate. And as you and George have both frequently described to me the deplorable state of decay into which the place has fallen I should imagine that the task of bringing it into order is likely to swallow the revenue, and a good deal more besides.”
“Is that what you mean to do?” asked Julian curiously. “Bring it into order?”