Let us be
friends: it may be to the interest of both."
He held out his hand, and the dowager did not repulse it. She had caught
the word "interest."
"_Now_ you might allow me Maude and that income!"
"I think I had better allow you the income without Maude."
"Eh? what?" cried the dowager, briskly. "Do you mean it?"
"Indeed I do. I have been thinking for some little time that you would be
more comfortable in a home of your own, and I am willing to help you to
one. I'll pay the rent of a nice little place in Ireland, and give you
six hundred a-year, paid quarterly, and--yes--make you a yearly present
of ten dozen of port wine."
Ah, the crafty man! The last item had a golden sound in it.
"Honour bright, Hartledon?"
"Honour bright! You shall never want for anything as long as you live.
But you must not"--he seemed to search for his words--"you must undertake
not to come here, upsetting and indulging the children."
"I'll undertake it. Good vintage, mind."
"The same that you have here."
The countess-dowager beamed. In the midst of her happiness--and it was
what she had not felt for many a long day, for really the poor old
creature had been put about sadly--she bethought herself of propriety.
Melting into tears, she presently bewailed her exhaustion, and said she
should like some tea: perhaps good Mr. Carr would bring her a teaspoonful
of brandy to put into it.
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