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Updated: May 11, 2025
"I am in no want of money, uncle; none whatever." "No, not as a bachelor; but as a married man you would be. Now do tell me how much of that thousand pounds did the colonel get out of you?" "Dear uncle, do remember that he is my father." "Well, well; two hundred a year, and two thousand pounds, and one, and Pritchett's account.
I don't detain you, ma'am, do I?" and you might have guessed by Pritchett's voice that he was quite willing to let her go if she wished, even though his own death on the spot might be the instant result. "Oh dear, no, Mr. Pritchett," said Miss Baker. "We all see how things have gone, ma'am, now; about Miss Caroline, I mean." "Yes, she is Lady Harcourt now." "Oh, yes, I know that, ma'am," and Mr.
To-morrow morning the will would be read, and George would have to listen to the reading of it. He knew well enough that the world looked on him as his uncle's probable heir, and that he should have to bear Mr. Pritchett's hardly expressed pity, Sir Henry's malignant pleasure, and Sir Lionel's loud disgust.
"But you see I have not time to run across the world to Jerusalem; and were I to do so, the chances are ten to one I should not catch him. If you will ask Pritchett too, you will find that your father is not the best correspondent in the world. Perhaps he has sent back by you some answer to Pritchett's half-yearly letters?" "He has sent nothing by me." "I'll warrant he has not.
Indeed, that would be a very vulgar way of looking at it." "Thanks to your unexpected kindness, I have not been driven to any very close economy." "Ah! that was Pritchett's doing. He seemed afraid that the land would not flow with milk and honey unless your pocket was fairly provided. But of course it's your own affair, George. It is money borrowed; that's all."
Pritchett." "Yes, it is some years now, certainly, Miss Baker. I'm not so young as I was; I know that." Mr. Pritchett's voice at this juncture would have softened the heart of any stone that had one. "But this is what it is, ma'am; you're going to live with the old gentleman now." "Yes, I believe I am." "Well, now; about Mr. George, ma'am." "Mr. George!" "Yes, Mr. George, Miss Baker.
"Harold had wired for him. I wondered if anythin' was up." "What should be 'up, as you call it, beyond his being either better or worse?" "That's what I want to know." "What do you mean?" "Why, that it was more from Pritchett's manner than from anything else that I gathered somethin' had happened." "So long as he's well, there's nothing to worry about," said Mrs Devitt reassuringly.
To the last he preferred George either to his niece or to his granddaughter; and was always best pleased when his nephew was by him. Once or twice he mentioned Mr. Pritchett's name; but he showed his dissent when they proposed to send for his man of business. On the afternoon of that day, he breathed his last in the presence of his three relatives.
Good as Mr. Pritchett's advice undoubtedly was, Bertram did not take it; and his uncle received no line from him during the whole period of his absence. Our hero's search after his father was not quite of so intricate a nature as was supposed by his uncle, nor so difficult as that made by Japhet under similar circumstances.
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