"I come up to
tell yer, knowing as you're interested in this family."
"Well," said Hilary. "What has happened?"
"It's along of the young girl's having left them, as you may know."
"Ah!"
"It's brought things to a crisax," explained Creed.
"Indeed, how's that?"
The old butler related the facts of the assault. "I took 'is bayonet
away from him," he ended; "he didn't frighten me."
"Is he out of his mind?" asked Hilary.
"I've no conscience of it," replied Creed. "His wife, she's gone the
wrong way to work with him, in my opinion, but that's particular to
women. She's a-goaded of him respecting a certain party. I don't say but
what that young girl's no better than what she ought to be; look at her
profession, and her a country girl, too! She must be what she oughtn't
to. But he ain't the sort o' man you can treat like that. You can't get
thorns from figs; you can't expect it from the lower orders. They only
give him a month, considerin' of him bein' wounded in the war. It'd
been more if they'd a-known he was a-hankerin' after that young girl--a
married man like him; don't ye think so, sir?"
Hilary's face had assumed its retired expression. 'I cannot go into that
with you,' it seemed to say.
Quick to see the change, Creed rose. "But I'm intrudin' on your dinner,"
he said--"your luncheon, I should say.
Pages:
215
216
217
218
219
220
221
222
223
224
225
226
227
228
229
230
231
232
233
234
235
236
237
238
239