"Oh, well! she may think so--after a sort of a fashion!"

"Would she speak to you again if she heard you talking so of the love you give her?"

"You know as well as I do the word has many meanings?"

"And which is she likely to take? That which is confessedly false and worth nothing?"

"She may take which she pleases, and drop it when she pleases."

"But now, does she not take your words of love for more than they are worth?"

"She says I will soon forget her."

"Will any saying keep her from being so in love with you as to reap misery? You don't know what the consequences may be! Her love wakened by yours, may be infinitely stronger than yours!"

"Oh, women don't now-a-days die for love!" said his lordship, feeling a little flattered.

"It would be well for some of them if they did! they never get over it.

She mayn't die, true! but she may live to hate the man that led her to think he loved her, and taught her to believe in n.o.body. Her whole life may be darkened because you would amuse yourself."

"She has her share of the amus.e.m.e.nt, and I have my share, by Jove, of the danger! She's a very pretty, clever, engaging girl--though she is but a housemaid!" said Forgue, as if uttering a sentiment of quite communistic liberality.

"What you say shows the more danger to her! If you admire her so much you must have behaved to her so much the more like a genuine lover?

But any suffering the affair may have caused you, will hardly, I fear, persuade you to the only honourable escape!"

"By Jupiter!" cried Forgue. "Would you have me marry the girl? That's coming it rather strong with your friendship for the cobbler!"

"No, my lord; if things are as you represent, I have no such desire.

What I want is to put a stop to the whole affair. Every man has to be his brother's keeper; and if our western notions concerning women be true, a man is yet more bound to be his sister's keeper. He who does not recognize this, be he earl or prince, is viler than the murderous prowler after a battle. For a man to say 'she can take care of herself,' is to speak out of essential h.e.l.l. The beauty of love is, that it does not take care of itself, but of the person loved. To approach a girl in any other fashion is a mean scoundrelly thing. I am glad it has already brought on you some of the chastis.e.m.e.nt it deserves."

His lordship started to his feet in a fresh access of rage.

"You dare say that to my face!"

"a.s.suredly, my lord. The fact stands just so."

"I gave the fellow as good as he gave me!"

"That is nothing to the point--though from the state I found you in, it is hard to imagine. Pardon me, I do not believe you behaved like what you call a coward."

Lord Forgue was almost crying with rage.

"I have not done with him yet!" he stammered. "If I only knew who the rascal is! If I don't pay him out, may--"

"Stop, stop, my lord. All that is mere waste! I know who the man is, but I will not tell you. He gave you no more than you deserved, and I will do nothing to get him punished for it."

"You are art and part with him!"

"I neither knew of his intent, saw him do it, nor have any proof against him."

"You will not tell me his name?"

"No."

"I will find it out, and kill him."

"He threatens to kill you. I will do what I can to prevent either."

"I will kill him," repeated Forgue through his clenched teeth.

"And I will do my best to have you hanged for it," said Donal.

"Leave the room, you insolent b.u.mpkin."

"When you have given me your word that you will never again speak to Eppy Comin."

"I'll be d.a.m.ned first."

"She will be sent away."

"Where I shall see her the easier."

His lordship said this more from perversity than intent, for he had begun to wish himself clear of the affair--only how was he to give in to this unbearable clown!

"I will give you till to-morrow to think of it," said Donal, and opened the door.

His lordship made him no reply, but cast after him a look of uncertain anger. Donal, turning his head as he shut the door, saw it:

"I trust," he said, "you will one day be glad I spoke to you plainly."

"Oh, go along with your preaching!" cried Forgue, more testily than wrathfully; and Donal went.

In the meantime Eppy had been soundly taken to task by Mrs. Brookes, and told that if once again she spoke a word to lord Forgue, she should that very day have her dismissal. The housekeeper thought she had at least succeeded in impressing upon her that she was in danger of losing her situation in a way that must seriously affect her character. She a.s.sured Donal that she would not let the foolish girl out of her sight; and thereupon Donal thought it better to give lord Forgue a day to make up his mind.

On the second morning he came to the schoolroom when lessons were over, and said frankly,

"I've made a fool of myself, Mr. Grant! Make what excuse for me you can. I am sorry. Believe me, I meant no harm. I have made up my mind that all shall be over between us."

"Promise me you will not once speak to her again."

"I don't like to do that: it might happen to be awkward. But I promise to do my best to avoid her."

Donald was not quite satisfied, but thought it best to leave the thing so. The youth seemed entirely in earnest.

For a time he remained in doubt whether he should mention the thing to Eppy's grandparents. He reflected that their influence with her did not seem very great, and if she were vexed by anything they said, it might destroy what little they had. Then it would make them unhappy, and he could not bear to think of it. He made up his mind that he would not mention it, but, in the hope she would now change her way, leave the past to be forgotten. He had no sooner thus resolved, however, than he grew uncomfortable, and was unsatisfied with the decision. All would not be right between his friend and him! Andrew Comin would have something against him! He could no longer meet him as before, for he would be hiding something from him, and he would have a right to reproach him! Then his inward eyes grew clear. He said to himself, "What a man has a right to know, another has no right to conceal from him. If sorrow belong to him, I have as little right to keep that from him as joy. His sorrows and his joys are part of a man's inheritance. My wisdom to take care of this man!--his own is immeasurably before mine! The whole matter concerns him: I will let him know at once!"

The same night he went to see him. His wife was out, and Donal was glad of it. He told him all that had taken place.

He listened in silence, his eyes fixed on him, his work on his lap, his hand with the awl hanging by his side. When he heard how Eppy had tricked Donal that night, leaving him to watch in vain, tears gathered in his old eyes. He wiped them away with the backs of his h.o.r.n.y hands, and there came no more. Donal told him he had first thought he would say nothing to him about it all, he was so loath to trouble them, but neither his heart nor his conscience would let him be silent.