Great Britain -- Politics and government -- 1800-1837 -- Fiction; Historical fiction; Political fiction
“Just so, just so!” Sir Robert replied with a certain lightness. And
raising his walking cane he pointed gravely and courteously to the door
a pace or two from him. “That is the door, Mr. Vaughan,” he said. “You
must be here, I am sure, under an error.”
Vaughan coloured painfully. “Sir Robert,” he said, “I owe you, I
know——”
“You will owe me very little by to-morrow evening,” Sir Robert
rejoined, interrupting him suavely. “Much less than you now think! But
that is not to the point. Will you—kindly withdraw?”
“I would like at least to say this! That I came here——”
“Will you kindly withdraw?” Sir Robert persisted. “That is all.” And he
pointed again, and still more blandly, to the door. “Any explanation
you may please to offer—and I do not deny that one may be in place—you
can give to my agent to-morrow. He, on his part, will have something to
say. For the present—Annibal,” turning with kindly condescension, “be
good enough to open the door for this gentleman. Good-evening, Mr.
Vaughan. You will not, I am sure, compel me to remove with my friends
to another room?”
And as he continued to point to the door, and would listen to
nothing—and the room was certainly his—Vaughan walked out. And Annibal
closed the door behind him.
XIV
MISS SIBSON’S MISTAKE
It was perhaps fortunate for Miss Hilhouse that she did not hazard any
remarks on that second escapade in the Square. Whether this amendment
in her manners was due to Miss Sibson’s apothegms, or to the general
desire of the school to see the new teacher’s new pelisse—which could
only be gratified by favour—or to a threatening rigidity in Mary
Smith’s bearing must remain a question. But children are keen
observers. Their senses are as sharp as their tongues are cruel. And it
is certain that Miss Smith had not read four lines of the fifth chapter
of The Fairchild Family before a certain sternness in her tone was
noted by those who had not already marked the danger signal in her
eyes. For the gentlest eyes can dart lightnings on occasion. The sheep
will turn in defence of its lamb. Nor ever walked woman who could not
fight for her secret and her pride.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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