"And so you and
Oswald have quarrelled, and there has been a duel. That is why you
were away?"
"That is why I was away."
"How wrong of you,--how very wrong! Had he been,--killed, how could
you have looked us in the face again?"
"I could not have looked you in the face again."
"But that is over now. And were you friends afterwards?"
"No;--we did not part as friends. Having gone there to fight with
him,--most unwillingly,--I could not afterwards promise him that I
would give up Miss Effingham. You say she will accept him now. Let
him come and try." She had nothing further to say,--no other argument
to use. There was the soreness at her heart still present to her,
making her wretched, instigating her to hurt him if she knew how to
do so, in spite of her regard for him. But she felt that she was weak
and powerless. She had shot her arrows at him,--all but one,--and if
she used that, its poisoned point would wound herself far more surely
than it would touch him. "The duel was very silly," he said. "You
will not speak of it."
"No; certainly not."
"I am glad at least that I have told you everything."
"I do not know why you should be glad. I cannot help you."
"And you will say nothing to Violet?"
"Everything that I can say in Oswald's favour.
Pages:
549
550
551
552
553
554
555
556
557
558
559
560
561
562
563
564
565
566
567
568
569
570
571
572
573