There was a hard struggle in the baronet’s breast. Time had been given him for reflection, and he had used it. To hear of his son’s extravagance, of his son’s deceit, and from such lips, was bad enough. To be compelled to endure the familiarity of the lawyer’s manner was to have to swallow a still more bitter pill. He could remember Mr Wilkins of old, blunt and jocose certainly, but by no means so jaunty in his bearing as he now was, although Sir Sykes had not then been the rich county magnate he had blossomed. He felt, and writhed as he felt, that it was the attorney’s sense of his hold upon him by reason of his knowledge of his past life, which had emboldened Mr Wilkins to deal with him as he had done. But the most provoking feature of the affair was that Sir Sykes felt that this man’s advice, coarsely and offensively administered as it was, yet contained a solid kernel of truth. Jasper was by no means a model son. He had committed fearful follies, and incurred debts which even the Master of Carbery had thought twice before discharging. His profligacy was redeemed by no brilliant talents, softened by no affectionate qualities. There are spendthrifts who remain lovable to the last, as there are others who dazzle the world by the glitter of their wit or valour. To neither category did the graceless offspring of Sir Sykes belong. And yet, in spite of his occasional menaces on the subject of his will, the baronet felt that national manners and family pride combined to constitute a sort of moral entail, of which Jasper was to reap the benefit.
‘I must see my son,’ said Sir Sykes smoothly, after a pause; ‘and when I have time to think over the matter, Mr Wilkins, I will write to you appointing as early an interview as possible. In the meantime I feel assured that you will see the propriety of not urging personally your claims on Captain Denzil in his present condition.’
Mr Wilkins was amenity itself. He would but eat a morsel in the coffee-room, he said, and would then go back to London by the next train, confident that he could not leave his interests in better hands than those of Sir Sykes.
‘The old address, sir! You used to know it well enough!’ said the lawyer with a leer, as he took the hand which the baronet did not dare to refuse in sign of friendship; and so they parted.