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If the interview now taking place in Mr. Pedgift's consulting-room had taken place at his dinner-table instead, when wine had opened his mind to humorous influences, it is possible that he might, by this time, have suspected the truth.
A very nice person, with all the remains of having been a fine girl about fifty years ago; quite in Pedgift's style if he had only been alive at the beginning of the present century quite in Pedgift's style. But perhaps Mr. Armadale would prefer hearing about Mrs. Mandeville? Unfortunately, there was nothing to tell.
This, however, happens to be exactly the condition which Pedgift's father with his opinion of me and my doings should consider it his duty to Armadale not to accept. So lawyer and client remain as far apart as ever, and the obstacle of the Pedgifts is cleared out of my way.
'I have got the man in my office, he said, 'and before the audit-day comes, I'll place him with the greatest pleasure at your friend's disposal." At this last announcement, Midwinter's distrust found its expression in words. He questioned Allan unsparingly. The man's name, it appeared was Bashwood. Pedgift's service.
I've seen Pedgift, and Pedgift's son, who helps him in the office. They're the two jolliest lawyers I ever met with in my life; and, what's more, they can produce the very man you want to teach you the steward's business." Midwinter looked up quickly. Distrust of Allan's discovery was plainly written in his face already; but he said nothing.
"This man would never have ventured on the application he has made to you, unless he had some good reason for believing he would succeed. If you wish to put yourself right at starting, you will send to Mr. Darch this morning to tell him you are here, and you will take no notice for the present of Mr. Pedgift's letter."
He appeared to be getting irritated under Mr. Pedgift's persistence, and he spoke in a somewhat hasty way. 'You persuaded me on the last occasion when we talked about this, he said, 'to do something that I have been since heartily ashamed of. You won't succeed in persuading me, Mr. Pedgift, a second time. Those were his words. Mr. Pedgift took him up short; Mr.
"My father is on the spot, and his command of language is something quite extraordinary." He rang the bell, and dispatched the telegram. Now that something had been done, Allan subsided gradually into a state of composure. He looked back again at Mr. Pedgift's letter, and then handed it to Mr. Pedgift's son. "Can you guess your father's plan for setting me right in the neighborhood?" he asked.
Pedgift's form of diplomatic practice had been the same throughout his life, on every occasion when he found his arts of persuasion required at an interview with another man. Jocular friends, acquainted by previous experience with this form of proceeding, had given it the name of "Pedgift's postscript."
Performed by other men, under other circumstances, the action might have been ridiculous. Performed by this man, at the crisis of the interview, the action was horrible. "Mr. Pedgift's time is too valuable, sir, to be wasted on me," he said. "I will mention what ought to be mentioned myself if you will please to allow me. I have been unfortunate in my family.
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