“The mother is as well as can be expected, Richard, and Patty very rosy with the country air.  Your disappearance was a great shock to them both.”

“And Tom?”

He went behind his reserve.  “Tom is a d—­d rake,” he exclaimed, with some vehemence.  “I have given him over.  He has taken up with that macaroni Courtenay, who wins his money,—­or rather my money,—­and your cousin Philip, when he is home from King’s College.  How Tom can be son of mine is beyond me, in faith.  I see him about once in two months, when he comes here with a bill for his satins and his ruffles, and along face of repentance, and a lot of gaming debts to involve my honour.  And that reminds me, Richard,” said he, looking straight at me with his clear, dark eyes:  “have you made any plans for your future?”

I ventured to ask his advice as to entering the law.

“As the only profession open to a gentleman,” he replied, smiling a little.  “No, you were no more cut out for an attorney, or a barrister, or a judge, than was I for a macaroni doctor.  The time is not far away, my lad,” he went on, seeing my shame and confusion, “when an American may amass money in any way he chooses, and still be a gentleman, behind a counter, if he will.”

“I do not fear work, Mr. Swain,” I remarked, with some pride.

“That is what I have been thinking,” he said shortly.  “And I am not a man to make up my mind while you count three, Richard.  I have the place in Talbot, and no one to look after it.  And—­and in short I think you are the man.”

He paused to watch the effect of this upon me.  But I was so taken aback by this new act of kindness that I could not say a word.

“Tom is fast going to the devil, as I told you,” he continued.  “He cannot be trusted.  If I die, that estate shall be Patty’s, and he may never squander it.  Captain Daniel tells me, and Mr. Bordley also, that you managed at Carvel Hall with sense and ability.  I know you are very young, but I think I may rely upon you.”

Again he hesitated, eying me fixedly.

“Ah,” said he, with his quiet smile, “it is the old noblesse oblige.  How many careers has it ruined since the world began!”

CHAPTER XLV

THE HOUSE OF MEMORIES

I was greatly touched, and made Mr. Swain many awkward acknowledgments, which he mercifully cut short.  I asked him for a while to think over his offer.  This seemed to please rather than displease him.  And my first impulse on reaching the inn was to ask the captain’s advice.  I thought better of it however, and at length resolved to thrash out the matter for myself.