It
seemed strange, however, that in the evening of life riches should
have come to him--riches from a distant kinsman who, living, had
hardly noticed the obscure scholar and parson. Five thousand pounds a
year was fabulous wealth to a man whose income heretofore had numbered
as many hundreds. And--alas! his son was dead. Not that the parson
loved his daughters the less because they were girls, but as the cadet
of an ancient family he had a Tory squire's prejudice in favour of a
Salique Law. With the thousands went a charming grange in the north
country and many fat acres which should of right be transmitted to a
male Carteret. If--futile thought--Dick had only been spared!
Thus reflecting, the bellboy brought him a card. The parson placed his
glasses upon a fine aquiline nose.
"Ahem! Mr.--er--Cartwright. The name is not familiar to me, but I'll
see the gentleman."
And so, after many years, father and son met as strangers. Dick
fluently explained the nature of his errand. Mr. Carteret's letter had
been given to him as the administrator of the late Mr. Tudor Crisp's
estate. He happened to be in San Francisco, and, seeing Mr.
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