"d.a.m.n it, man, I can't read the paper and eat an egg!" snapped the Major. "Out with your lie, whatever it is!"

"Master Larry's chosen for the Member in place of Prendergast," said Evans, sulkily.

If Evans had been unfortunate in the way in which his sensation had been led up to, its reception left him nothing to desire. d.i.c.k was stricken to an instant of complete silence. Then he roared to Evans to take the d.a.m.ned tray out of his way, and to give him the (otherwise qualified) paper.

It would serve no purpose, useful or otherwise, to attempt to record d.i.c.k Talbot-Lowry's denunciations of Larry, of his religion, and of his politics; of, secondarily, his ingrat.i.tude; his treachery, and his lack of the most rudimentary elements of a gentleman. They lasted long, and lacked nothing of effect that strength of lung and vigour of language could bring to them. And Evans, the many-wintered crow, hearkened, and rejoiced that he was seeing his desire of his enemy.

"No! I won't eat it! Take it away--I don't want it, I tell you! Curse you, can't you do as you're bid?" Thus spake d.i.c.k Talbot-Lowry, flinging himself back on his pillows, and shoving the breakfast-tray from him. The hot purple colour that had flooded his face was fading; his voice was getting hoa.r.s.e and weak. Evans, with an apprehensive eye on his master's changed aspect, carried the tray out of the room.

There was a quick step on the stairs, and Larry came lightly along the landing.

"The Major up, Evans? No? Oh, all right! May I come in, Cousin d.i.c.k?"

He swung into the room.

Old Evans carefully shut the door behind him.

"Now me laddy-o!" he whispered, rubbing his hooked grey beak with one finger, and chuckling low and wheezily: "Now, maybe! Me fine young Papist! Ye'll be getting your tay in a mug! Hot and strong! Hot and strong!"

He moved away from the door with the tray of untouched breakfast things.

CHAPTER x.x.xII

Lady Isabel was returning from her accustomed housekeeping morning visit to Mrs. Dixon, when she was startled by the sharp outcry of an electric bell.

"d.i.c.k's room!" she said to herself, beginning to hurry; she hardly knew why.

A housemaid ran down the long pa.s.sage in front of her, flying to the summons. Through the open door of the dining-room Lady Isabel saw Christian giving the dogs their breakfast.

"Papa's bell is ringing, dear," said Lady Isabel, breathing hard.

"I heard someone go up to his room just now," said Christian, languidly; "I haven't seen him this morning; I was in the yard with the dogs--"

Someone came down the stairs, headlong, two steps at a time. Larry's voice shouted:

"Christian! Cousin Isabel! Anyone--!"

There was urgency and alarm in the voice.

Lady Isabel and Christian were in the hall in an instant, and met Larry at the foot of the stairs.

"Cousin d.i.c.k's ill! A heart attack, I think--I didn't know what to do for him--"

"I do!" said Christian, speeding upstairs.

Her mother followed her, and Larry remained in the hall. Of one thing he was quite certain, that he had better keep out of Cousin d.i.c.k's sight. His nerves were quivering from the interview that had been so shatteringly abbreviated. Had the friendly old setter, whose head at this moment was on his knee, while her limpid eyes swore to him that all her love was his, suddenly turned and rent him, it would scarcely be a shock worse than that he had received. He had been undeterred by the ominous gloom of the Major's greeting; few young men have very keen perception of mood, and Larry, deeply self-engrossed, wildly happy, had flung at once into his theme, which, it need hardly be said, was Christian. Then the storm broke, and the lightning blazed, and the thunders of the house uttered their voice, while Larry, amazed, horrified, gradually, as the invective gathered volume and venom, becoming angry, stood in silence, and received in a single cloud-burst the bitter flood of long-pent prejudice, jealousy, and sense of injury.

"Dead!" d.i.c.k had roared; "I'd rather see her dead in her coffin than married to--"

The epithets that a h.o.a.rded hatred finds ready to hand when its pent force is released, come horribly from the lips of an old man. Yet, almost more horrible than the full tide of rage, was to see its ebb, as "the sick old servant" in Major d.i.c.k's bosom failed him, and his heart staggered and fainted in its effort to abet him in denouncing the young cousin who he thought had wronged him.

Larry sat, fondling the old setter's chestnut head, thinking it all over, flaming again at the remembered insults, quailing at the possibilities as they concerned Christian. Once she had appeared at the top of the stairs, and said the single word, "Better!" before she vanished.

One half of Larry's mind said "Better? What do I care? Better if he dies, if he comes between me and her!" The other, which was his deeper self, preserved the memory of d.i.c.k's greying face and frightened eyes, and was glad that relief had come.

At last Christian came to him, slowly and with a dragging step, down the wide staircase. Her face was white, her eyes were set in shadows.

"How is he?"

"Round the corner, I think. We've wired for Mangan."

"Christian, I want to explain--I said nothing--I never meant to annoy him, I began about you, and that--that we loved each other. For we do, Christian, don't we?" He had her hands in his, he crushed them in his anxiety, his eyes implored her. "Then suddenly he began to abuse me like a madman! My religion, my politics, my treachery to my cla.s.s--I can't tell you what he didn't say! And then he swore he'd rather see you dead than married to me. I don't know what I said--nothing, I think; he began to look as if he were dying himself, and I rang the bell and bolted for you."

"Poor boy!" said Christian.

He thought that her face as she looked at him was as it were the face of an angel, but the sorrow in it frightened him.

"Come into the study," she said, freeing her hands from his grasp; "we can't talk here."

The study door was open; he followed her in silence, and, shutting the door, sat down beside her on the sofa.

"Larry, we've got to face it, you know; we've got to face it," she began, and gave back to him her slender sensitive hand, as if to heal the wound of what the words implied.

"Face what?" said Larry, stubbornly, girding himself for resistance.

"Face delay--opposition--"

"I'll face opposition as much as you like, but I won't face delay! Why should we? We're of age. There's nothing against me!"

Christian smiled faintly.

"Dear child, I know that. It's not the facts that are against us, it's the fancies--"

"I won't be patronised!" said Larry, vehemently. "I'm not your dear child! I'm the man you've promised to marry! No one's fancies have a right to interfere with us!"

His arm was round her, and he felt her tremble. He loosed her hand, and with his hand that had held it he turned her face to his. Then he kissed her, many times, with an ever-growing abandonment as he felt the response that she tried in vain to withhold.

At length, in spite of him, she hid her face in his shoulder.

"No, Larry, no!" she gasped, her breath coming short. "Dearest, don't be cruel to me! How can I keep that promise! If you had seen Papa just now and Mother--her terror and her helplessness! How could I leave them? Supposing that I defied him, and married you, and that he died in one of these furies! Just think what that would be for us!"

"He wouldn't die!" said Larry, obstinately. "People don't die as easy as all that!" he added, with a fierce thought of regret that d.i.c.k had not gone out in this latest storm.

"Listen," said Christian, beseechingly. "Don't let us be in such a hurry. Everything needn't be settled at once. We'll ask Dr. Mangan how Papa is, and if there is real danger for him in these rages. He was nearly as bad on Sat.u.r.day after the Priest and the tenants had been here."