"Well—yes; I had the address."
"And you did nothing?" she said, flashing upon him a look of indignant surprise.
"I did nothing," returned Percival.
"That is what I complain of," she remarked, shortly.
For some time she drove on in silence, lightly flicking her ponies' heads from time to time with her whip, her face set steadily towards the road before her, her strong, well-gloved hands showing determination in the very way she held the whip and reins. Percival grew savage, and then defiant.
"You ask too much," he said, pulling his long moustache, and uttering a bitter laugh. "It would have been easy and natural enough to move Heaven and earth for the sake of Brian Luttrell's rights, if Brian Luttrell had not constituted himself my rival in another domain. But when his 'rights' meant depriving you of your property, and placing Mr. Stretton in authority—I decline."
"I call that mean and base," said Elizabeth, giving the words a low but clear-toned emphasis, which made Percival wince.
"Thank you," he said. And there was another long silence, which lasted until they drew up at Mr. Colquhoun's door.
Percival waited for nearly an hour before she came back, and had time to go through every possible phase of anger and mortification. He felt that he had more reason on his side than Elizabeth could understand: the doubt of Dino's good faith, which seemed so small to her, had certainly influenced him very strongly. No doubt it would have been better—wiser—if he had tried to find out the truth of Dino's story; but the sting of Elizabeth's judgment lay in the fact that he had fervently hoped that Dino's story was not true, and that he had refused to meet Dino's offer half-way, the offer that would have secured Elizabeth's own happiness. Would she ever hear a full account of that interview? And what would she think of his selfishness if she came to know it? Ever since that conversation in Mr. Brett's office Percival had been conscious of bitter possibilities of evil in his own soul. He had had a bad time of it during the past week, and, when he contrasted his own conduct with the generous candour and uprightness that Elizabeth seemed to expect from him, he was open to confess to himself that he fell very short of her standard.
She came back to her place attended by Mr. Colquhoun, who wrapped her rugs about her in a fatherly way, and took not the slightest notice of Mr. Percival Heron. She had some small purchases to make in the town, and it was growing almost dusk before they turned homewards. Then she began to speak in her ordinary tone.