But Jock only waited for the friendly cover of a grand piece of
instrumental music to ask Mrs. Evelyn if she had heard from his
mother, and she was very glad to go into details with him, while he
was infinitely relieved that the silence was over, and he could
discuss the matter with his friends.
"Tell me truly, Jock, will she be comfortably off?"
"Very fairly. Yes, indeed. My father's savings were absolutely left
to her, and have been accumulating all this time, and they will be a
very fair maintenance for her and Babie."
"There is no danger of her having to pay the mesne profits?"
"No, certainly not, as it stands. Mr. Wakefield says that cannot
happen. Then the old house in Bloomsbury, where we were all born, is
our own, and she likes the notion of returning thither. Mrs. Evelyn,
after all you and Sir James have done for me, what should you think
of my giving it up, and taking to the pestle and mortar?"
"My dear Lucas!" Then after a moment's reflection, "I suppose it
would be folly to think of going on as you are?"
"Raving insanity," said Jock, "and this notion really does seem to
please my mother."
"Is it not just intolerable to hear him?" said Cecil, who had made
his way to them.
"'What is bred in the bone-—'" said Jock.
Pages:
569
570
571
572
573
574
575
576
577
578
579
580
581
582
583
584
585
586
587
588
589
590
591
592
593