Lucinda by Antonio Hope — Read

WALDO'S was a business letter; any feelings that might be influencing the proposed transaction, any sentiment that might be involved-whether of Nina's, of his own, of his father's, or of mine-he appeared to consider as having been adequately indicated in our talk at Paris, and accorded them only one passing reference. He assumed that I should be bearing all that-he had a habit of describing the emotions as "all that," I remembered-in mind; what remained was to ask me whether I were favorably disposed to the arrangement, the value of his remainder-which must, alas, before many years were out, become an estate in possession-to be fixed by a firm of land agents selected by himself and me-"from which price I should suggest deducting twenty-five per cent. in consideration of what I believe the lawyers call ‘natural love and affection'; in other words, because I'd much sooner sell to you than to a stranger-in fact, than to _anybody else_." The underlining of the last two words clearly asked me to substitute for them a proper name with which we were both well acquainted. He added that he thought the land agents' valuation would be somewhere in the neighborhood of thirty thousand pounds, timber included-and so, with kindest remembrances from Nina, who was splendidly fit, _considering_ (another underlining gave me news of possible importance for the future of the Dundrannan barony), he remained my affectionate cousin.

Though I suspect that son and father, at the bottom of their hearts, felt much the same about the matter, Sir Paget's letter was expressed in a different vein. Leaving the business to Waldo, he dealt with the personal aspect: