Part 30 (1/2)

Oscar hesitated.

”Say you love me!”

Oscar whispered it.

”Out loud!”

Endurance has its limits: I began to lose my temper. She could not have been more superbly indifferent to my presence, if there had been a cat in the room instead of a lady.

”Permit me to inform you,” I said, ”that I have not (as you appear to suppose) left the room.”

She took no notice. She went on with her commands, rising irrepressibly from one amatory climax to another.

”Give me a kiss!”

Unhappy Oscar--sacrificed between us--blushed. Stop! Don't revel prematurely in the greatest enjoyment a reader has--namely, catching a writer out in a mistake. I have not forgotten that his disfigured complexion would prevent his blush from showing on the surface. I beg to say I saw it under the surface--saw it in his expression: I repeat--he blushed.

I felt it necessary to a.s.sert myself for the second time.

”I have only one object in remaining in the room, Miss Finch. I merely wish to know whether you refuse to accept my excuses.

”Oscar! give me a kiss!”

He still hesitated. She threw her arm round his neck. My duty to myself was plain--my duty was to go.

”Good afternoon, Mr. Dubourg,” I said--and turned to the door. She heard me cross the room, and called to me to stop. I paused. There was a gla.s.s on the wall opposite to me. On the authority of the gla.s.s, I beg to mention that I paused in my most becoming manner. Grace tempered with dignity: dignity tempered with grace.

”Madame Pratolungo!”

”Miss Finch?”

”This is the man who is not half so agreeable as his brother. Look!”

She tightened her hold round his neck, and gave him--ostentatiously gave him--the kiss which he was ashamed to give _her._ I advanced, in contemptuous silence, to the door. My att.i.tude expressed disgust accompanied by sorrow: sorrow, accompanied by disgust.

”Madame Pratolungo!”

I made no answer.

”This is the man whom I should never have loved if I had happened to meet his brother first. Look!”

She put both arms round his neck; and gave him a shower of kisses all in one. I indignantly withdrew. The door had been imperfectly closed when I had entered the room: it was ajar. I pulled it open--and found myself face to face with Nugent Dubourg, standing by the table, with his letter from Liverpool in his hand! He must have certainly heard Lucilla cast my own words back in my teeth--if he had heard no more.

I stopped short; looking at him in silent surprise. He smiled, and held out the open letter to me. Before we could speak, we heard the door of the room closed. Oscar had followed me out (shutting the door behind him) to apologize for Lucilla's behavior to me. He explained what had happened to his brother. Nugent nodded, and tapped his open letter smartly. ”Leave me to manage it. I shall give you something better to do than quarreling among yourselves. You will hear what it is directly. In the meantime, I have got a message for our friend at the inn. Gootheridge is on his way here, to speak to me about altering the stable. Run and tell him I have other business on hand, and I can't keep my appointment to-day. Stop!

Give him this at the same time, and ask him to leave it at the rectory.”

He took one of his visiting cards out of the case, wrote a few lines on it in pencil, and handed it to his brother. Oscar (always ready to go on errands for Nugent) hurried out to meet the landlord. Nugent turned to me.

”The German is in England,” he said. ”Now I may open my lips.”

”At once!” I exclaimed.