The Gipsy: A Tale (Vols I & II). G. P. R. James
mean the business with Manners, do not think of it any more! Manners is extremely good-humoured, and will forget it at once, I am sure. No further apology is necessary."
"Apology, sir!" exclaimed Lord Dewry; "what do you mean? I have made no apology!"
"No, my lord," replied De Vaux; "but, considering that Manners was my friend, that he saved my life at the risk of his own, that he came down here at my invitation, and that he was a guest in my aunt's house, I thought it necessary to apologize for the manner in which my father had treated him, saying that I was sure you were irritated by some other cause;" and adding--"I felt sure you would--that you would be sorry for having expressed yourself so bitterly, when you reflected upon the circumstances."
"You did, sir!" said Lord Dewry, "you did!--then I have only to tell you that you said what was not the case;" De Vaux reddened; "that you took a great and unwarrantable liberty with my name," continued Lord Dewry, whose passion had quite overcome every restraint; "and that, had you considered your father as much as this new friend, you would have seen that I was the insulted person--that I had a right to demand apology, and you would have broken off all connection with a person who would show so little respect to your parent; and this, sir,--this is what I command you now to do, or to take the consequences of your disobedience."
"My lord," answered De Vaux, cooling himself down as far as possible,--"my lord, as you must already have seen, we view the matter in a very different light. It grieves me bitterly that we should disagree so severely on the very day after my return; but if you wish me to break off my acquaintance with Colonel Manners, because you have thought fit to treat him with some rudeness, I must tell you, at once, such an idea could never be entertained by me for a moment. As to the consequences which your lordship speaks of, I am at a loss to conceive what you mean. A disagreement with your lordship is--"
"The consequences, Captain De Vaux," interrupted his father, with a small red spot glowing in the middle of his sallow cheek--"the consequences may be more bitter than you think. You believe that the estates of the barony, being entailed, must descend to you; but let me tell you, young man--let me tell you," he repeated, approaching nearer to his son, and lowering his voice in tone, but not in emphasis,--"let me tell you, you could be deprived of them by a word. But no more of that," he added, raising his head, and resuming his usual air of dignity, which had been a good deal lost during that morning, "no more of that; the consequences to which I alluded, and to which I now allude, are the displeasure of your father, and the knowledge that you remain the friend of a man who has insulted him."
"Could I see, my dear sir," replied De Vaux, "that Manners had insulted you--"
"It is sufficient, sir, that I see it," interrupted his father, hastily, "it is sufficient that I see it; and I hold myself aggrieved that my son should see it otherwise. But do as you will, Edward de Vaux--do as you will. If you are lost to a sense of filial duty, and refuse to obey my positive injunction to break with this man, you may act as you think fit."
"I shall never, my lord, even dream of breaking with him," replied De Vaux; "as it appears to me, that to do so would render me an accomplice in an act of notable injustice."
"You are dutiful, sir--you are respectful," said Lord Dewry, setting his teeth hard; "but do as you please--do as you please: I wish you good-morning;" and, turning on his heel, he quitted the apartment.
"This is mighty disagreeable," thought De Vaux, as he rang the bell to bring back his servant; "this is mighty disagreeable and mighty absurd, it seems to me; but the worst part of all will be the meeting at breakfast. However, all these things must be encountered as they come, in this good pleasant world of ours;" and he returned to his toilet.
In the mean time the noble lord, his father, proceeded to his own apartments, laid his hand upon the bell, and rang in such a manner as to show that he was in a passion, not only to his own servant, but to the whole house. His own servant, however, a thin, dark, saturnine person, well calculated by constitutional frigidity to cope with an irritable master, was not in the least alarmed by any sign of his lord's angry mood, to which he was wont to oppose, on all occasions, a dull, obtuse silence, that left him without any remedy but patience. He accordingly proceeded slowly to Lord Dewry's apartment; received the objurgation for his tardiness with profound and unmoved taciturnity; listened to his lordship's orders to pack up all his dressing things, and order the horses to the carriage directly, in the same automatonical manner, and then went to take his breakfast, not at all approving of his master's purpose of setting out without refreshment. Lord Dewry, fondly fancying that he had gone to order the horses to be put to, waited in his bedroom very patiently for five minutes, then began to get angry during five minutes more, and then rang the bell for at least the same space of time. At the end of that period the man again made his appearance, and, with a face of dull unconsciousness, asked if his lordship had rung, although he had heard every succeeding stroke of the bell.
Lord Dewry stamped with rage; but, finding that it had no effect, he left the man alone to arrange his dressing things, while, for the purpose of waiting till the carriage was ready, he went down to the library, calculating, of course, upon its being, as usual, the most solitary room in the whole house. If he expected to find it empty, however, he was mistaken: for Mrs. Falkland was seated at the table, writing a note; and, as there was no person, in or out of his own family, for whom his lordship entertained so great a respect--which would have been a little, perhaps, approaching to fear, if he could have feared any thing--there was no one consequently whom he less wished to meet, at a moment when he was acting in a manner which needed the full excitement of passion and pride to appear, even in his own opinion, either dignified or gentlemanly. He was drawing back, but Mrs. Falkland raised her eyes; and his lordship, conscious that he had been wishing to retreat, advanced, of course, with a greater degree of boldness, and asked whether he interrupted her by his presence.
"Not in the least--not in the least," replied Mrs. Falkland; "but you seem prepared for travelling, my lord. You are not thinking of setting out before breakfast?"
"Most assuredly I shall, Maria," replied the peer. "You do not suppose that I am going to subject myself to the pain of meeting again, in your house, a person by whom I have been so grossly insulted as this Colonel Manners?"
"Whom you have so grossly insulted, I suppose, your lordship means," replied Mrs. Falkland. "My lord, I am your sister, and consequently am not disposed to see faults; but I tell you sincerely, that you equally owe an apology to me and to Colonel Manners for your behaviour last night. The one to myself I will, of course, dispense with; but, if you do right, you will go to Colonel Manners, and tell him that something had occurred in the course of yesterday to irritate and vex you, and that you are extremely sorry that your irritation vented itself upon him." Mrs. Falkland spoke with infinite calmness; and, when she had done, wrote another sentence of her note, leaving her brother the while to pause on the somewhat bitter matter of her discourse.
His lordship employed the time in remembering that it was a lady and his sister to whom he was opposed, and in subduing the wrath of his heart into the quieter form of sneer; although he still continued to gaze on her, while she wrote, with eyes in which his anger still maintained its ground, like a solitary post left behind a retreating army.
"Do you know, Mrs. Falkland," he replied, with a curling lip, "in such pleasant little discussions as these, we gentlemen have hardly fair play when opposed to female antagonists; for, under shelter of your sex, you women dare say things to us that it would be ungentlemanly to retort, and which are very difficult to bear."
"Truth, my lord, I am afraid, is often difficult to bear," replied Mrs. Falkland; "and perhaps, on such occasions, you may hear it in a more unqualified manner from a woman than from one of your own sex."
"As the matter is a difference of opinion, Maria, between you and me," said Lord Dewry, "it is rather like begging the question to assume that it is truth that gives me offence. You have forgot your logic, my good sister."
"If I ever possessed any, my lord," rejoined Mrs. Falkland, "I certainly should not be disposed to try it upon you, in order to induce you either to make an apology, which is alike due to yourself and to Colonel Manners, or to stay here without making it."
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