"I wish you could leave everything you have to Francis.

I tell you in all sincerity that I wish he had been my elder brother.

You would have been far better pleased with him." Lord Ashbridge's anger rose.

He was naturally so self-complacent as to be seldom disposed to anger, but its rarity was not due to kindliness of nature.
"I have before now noticed your jealousy of your cousin," he observed.
Michael's face went white.
"That is infamous and untrue, father," he said.
Lord Ashbridge turned on him.
"Apologise for that," he said.
Michael looked up at his high towering without a tremor.
"I wait for the withdrawal of your accusation that I am jealous of Francis," he replied.
There was a dead silence.

Lord Ashbridge stood there in swollen and speechless indignation, and Michael faced him undismayed.