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There was a pause. Sir Henry broke it with dignity, as he turned
away.
'I think we had better break off this discussion. I cannot--I do
not--believe you will carry out what you say. But if you do, I shall
stand by the young people.'
'No doubt!' said the Squire, who seemed to bristle from head to
foot. 'Well, good-bye, Sir Henry. Sorry your visit has not been more
agreeable. Forest will look after you.' And ringing the bell
vehemently as he passed the fireplace, the Squire walked rapidly to
the door and threw it open.
Chicksands passed through it, speechless with indignation and, if
the truth were told, bewilderment.
* * * * *
The Squire shut the door upon his adversary, and then, with his
hands on his sides, exploded in a fit of laughter.
'I always knew I must be rude to the old boy some time,' he said,
with the glee of a mischievous child. 'But, ye gods, how his
feathers drooped! He looked like a plucked cockatoo as he went out.'
He stood thinking a moment, and then with a look of sudden
determination he went to his writing-table and sat down to it.


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