The Ayrshire Legatees; Or, The Pringle FamilyGalt, John
General
The Ayrshire Legatees; Or, The Pringle Family
Galt, John
Scotland -- Social life and customs -- Fiction
The establishment of Messrs. Argent and Company is of vast extent, and
has in it something even of a public magnitude; the number of the clerks,
the assiduity of all, and the order that obviously prevails throughout,
give at the first sight, an impression that bespeaks respect for the
stability and integrity of the concern. When we had been seated about
ten minutes, and my father's name taken to Mr. Argent, an answer was
brought, that he would see us as soon as possible; but we were obliged to
wait at least half an hour more. Upon our being at last admitted, Mr.
Argent received us standing, and in an easy gentlemanly manner said to my
father, "You are the residuary legatee of the late Colonel Armour. I am
sorry that you did not apprise me of this visit, that I might have been
prepared to give the information you naturally desire; but if you will
call here to-morrow at 12 o'clock, I shall then be able to satisfy you on
the subject. Your lady, I presume?" he added, turning to my mother;
"Mrs. Argent will have the honour of waiting on you; may I therefore beg
the favour of your address?" Fortunately I was provided with cards, and
having given him one, we found ourselves constrained, as it were, to take
our leave. The whole interview did not last two minutes, and I never was
less satisfied with myself. The Doctor and my mother were in the
greatest anguish; and when we were again seated in the coach, loudly
expressed their apprehensions. They were convinced that some stratagem
was meditated; they feared that their journey to London would prove as
little satisfactory as that of the Wrongheads, and that they had been
throwing away good money in building castles in the air.
It had been previously arranged, that we were to return for my sister,
and afterwards visit some of the sights; but the clouded visages of her
father and mother darkened the very spirit of Rachel, and she largely
shared in their fears. This, however, was not the gravest part of the
business; for, instead of going to St. Paul's and the Tower, as we had
intended, my mother declared, that not one farthing would they spend more
till they were satisfied that the expenses already incurred were likely
to be reimbursed; and a Chancery suit, with all the horrors of wig and
gown, floated in spectral haziness before their imagination.
We sat down to a frugal meal, and although the remainder of a bottle of
wine, saved from the preceding day, hardly afforded a glass apiece, the
Doctor absolutely prohibited me from opening another.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
Reviews
Reviews
No reviews yet
Be the first to share your thoughts on this work.
Join the Discussion
Join the discussion
Sign in to leave a comment or review.
Sign InorCreate an account