less ill--'
'It is better you should say what you feel.'
'I don't know if I have the right. I don't know all the circumstances of your refusal of him. My love for Jeremy
went so deep that it warps my judgement. I could only see his almost manic distress--'
'Ladies, ladies,' said Philip Prideaux, aware at last of the battle that was beginning before him, 'this is clearly a distressing subject for you both! Could we not discuss something brighter?'
Her eyes full of tears, Clowance turned to him and said:
'Captain Prideaux, will you please go away.'
Selina was delivered of a male child on the thirtieth of November 1818. On the third of December Valentine went to see George Warleggan at his bank in Truro. George could hardly believe his ears when Valentine was announced.
'Mr Valentine, did you say? . . . Where is he?'
'Downstairs, sir.'
It was on his tongue to say he was not in, but angry curiosity got the better of him.
'Show him up.'
When Valentine came in George was studiously writing. After a couple of minutes he lowered his pen and said:
'Well?'
Valentine was as usual well turned out, but not flamboyantly in the way Ossie Whitworth had once been. George was irritated that he could find no fault in the young man's attire.
'Good day to you, Father. Some years since we met. You're well?'
'Well enough. What do you want?'
'What do I want? Well, less than nothing, so far as I know. May I sit down?'
George gave no indication of assent, but Valentine sank into the black-studded leather armchair that Cary occupied when he came into the room. It was the least uncomfortable seat this side of the desk.
'I came to tell you, Father, that my wife Selina gave birth to our first child last Thursday. This mayhap you will have heard?'
'I know nothing of your family, and care less.'
'A pity. I came to tell you that mother and child are doing well.'
'Indeed.'
George remembered the insults that had flown between them in their last quarrel. He was not a man who easily forgot. But years had passed since they had spoken or even seen each other. There was little obvious change in the young man. The same narrow good looks, the same arrogance, the same insolent bearing. Rumours had reached George that in the intervening years Valentine had been up to no good in the county. Carrying on with this woman and that. Using his wife's money in various semi-nefarious ways. But he had spent a lot of money on this young man too, the only one to bear the name of Warleggan. What was this news the young puppy was bringing?
'So?'
'I have a son. And you a grandson. I thought you might like to know. Harriet I'm sure will be pleased to know. The christening is to be on Sunday next, just after morning prayers. Very quiet. No fuss.'
'Indeed,' said George again, from under lowering brows. Valentine brushed a dab of mud off his highly polished riding boots. 'How are the twins?'
'What? Oh ... So-so.'
'I'm sorry, I have temporarily forgot their names.'
'Rachel and Anne.'
'Of course . . . Well, yes, on consideration there is one extra point to my coming. The question of a name for my son. Selina and I have given careful thought to the matter. Would you object if we called him George?'
Someone was shouting in the street outside, selling eels. There was a tap on the door, and a clerk put his head in. He recoiled like a wounded snail when George looked at him. The door closed. Valentine looked out of the window. It was streaked with stains of yesterday's rain, and the iron bar across it did not add to the cosiness of the room. George said: 'Is this some attempt to curry favour with me?'
'Why should it be? I have money of my own.'
'You mean Selina's.'
'Not altogether.'
'Well, your mine is not paying,' George said spitefully. 'I happen to know that.'
'The Duchy of Cornwall, as I'm sure you know, has leased its duties for collection to Mr Edward Smith. He has been very exacting, as I am sure you also know, and two of the smaller mines in my
'It is better you should say what you feel.'
'I don't know if I have the right. I don't know all the circumstances of your refusal of him. My love for Jeremy
went so deep that it warps my judgement. I could only see his almost manic distress--'
'Ladies, ladies,' said Philip Prideaux, aware at last of the battle that was beginning before him, 'this is clearly a distressing subject for you both! Could we not discuss something brighter?'
Her eyes full of tears, Clowance turned to him and said:
'Captain Prideaux, will you please go away.'
Selina was delivered of a male child on the thirtieth of November 1818. On the third of December Valentine went to see George Warleggan at his bank in Truro. George could hardly believe his ears when Valentine was announced.
'Mr Valentine, did you say? . . . Where is he?'
'Downstairs, sir.'
It was on his tongue to say he was not in, but angry curiosity got the better of him.
'Show him up.'
When Valentine came in George was studiously writing. After a couple of minutes he lowered his pen and said:
'Well?'
Valentine was as usual well turned out, but not flamboyantly in the way Ossie Whitworth had once been. George was irritated that he could find no fault in the young man's attire.
'Good day to you, Father. Some years since we met. You're well?'
'Well enough. What do you want?'
'What do I want? Well, less than nothing, so far as I know. May I sit down?'
George gave no indication of assent, but Valentine sank into the black-studded leather armchair that Cary occupied when he came into the room. It was the least uncomfortable seat this side of the desk.
'I came to tell you, Father, that my wife Selina gave birth to our first child last Thursday. This mayhap you will have heard?'
'I know nothing of your family, and care less.'
'A pity. I came to tell you that mother and child are doing well.'
'Indeed.'
George remembered the insults that had flown between them in their last quarrel. He was not a man who easily forgot. But years had passed since they had spoken or even seen each other. There was little obvious change in the young man. The same narrow good looks, the same arrogance, the same insolent bearing. Rumours had reached George that in the intervening years Valentine had been up to no good in the county. Carrying on with this woman and that. Using his wife's money in various semi-nefarious ways. But he had spent a lot of money on this young man too, the only one to bear the name of Warleggan. What was this news the young puppy was bringing?
'So?'
'I have a son. And you a grandson. I thought you might like to know. Harriet I'm sure will be pleased to know. The christening is to be on Sunday next, just after morning prayers. Very quiet. No fuss.'
'Indeed,' said George again, from under lowering brows. Valentine brushed a dab of mud off his highly polished riding boots. 'How are the twins?'
'What? Oh ... So-so.'
'I'm sorry, I have temporarily forgot their names.'
'Rachel and Anne.'
'Of course . . . Well, yes, on consideration there is one extra point to my coming. The question of a name for my son. Selina and I have given careful thought to the matter. Would you object if we called him George?'
Someone was shouting in the street outside, selling eels. There was a tap on the door, and a clerk put his head in. He recoiled like a wounded snail when George looked at him. The door closed. Valentine looked out of the window. It was streaked with stains of yesterday's rain, and the iron bar across it did not add to the cosiness of the room. George said: 'Is this some attempt to curry favour with me?'
'Why should it be? I have money of my own.'
'You mean Selina's.'
'Not altogether.'
'Well, your mine is not paying,' George said spitefully. 'I happen to know that.'
'The Duchy of Cornwall, as I'm sure you know, has leased its duties for collection to Mr Edward Smith. He has been very exacting, as I am sure you also know, and two of the smaller mines in my
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