"Come, Will, don't be out of temper with us," said Clara. "It is our last night together. We, who are so dear to each other, ought not to quarrel."
"I'm not quarrelling with you," said he.
"I can hardly suppose that Mr. Belton wants to quarrel with me," said Captain Aylmer, smiling.
"I'm sure he does not," said Clara. Belton sat silent, with his eyes fixed upon the table, and with a dark frown upon his brow. He did long to quarrel with Captain Aylmer; but was still anxious, if it might be possible, to save himself from what he knew would be a transgression.
"To use a phrase common with us down in Yorkshire," said Aylmer, "I should say that Mr. Belton had got out of bed the wrong side this morning."
"What the d—— does it matter to you, sir, what side I got out of bed?" said Will, clenching both his fists. Oh;—if he might only have been allowed to have a round of five minutes with Aylmer, he would have been restored to good temper for that night, let the subsequent results have been what they might. He moved his feet impatiently on the floor, as though he were longing to kick something; and then he pushed his coffee-cup away from him, upsetting half the contents upon the table, and knocking down a wine-glass, which was broken.
"Will;—Will!" said Clara, looking at him with imploring eyes.
"Then he shouldn't talk to me about getting out of bed on the wrong side. I didn't say anything to him."
"It is unkind of you, Will, to quarrel with Captain Aylmer because he is my friend."
"I don't want to quarrel with him; or, rather, as I won't quarrel with him because you don't wish it, I'll go away. I can't do more than that. I didn't want to dine with him here. There's my cousin Clara, Captain Aylmer; I love her better than all the world besides. Love her! It seems to me that there's nothing else in the world for me to love. I'd give my heart for her this minute. All that I have in the world is hers. Oh,—love her! I don't believe that it's in you to know what I mean when I say that I love her! She tells me that she's going to be your wife. You can't suppose that I can be very comfortable under those circumstances,—or that I can be very fond of you. I'm not very fond of you. Now I'll go away, and then I shan't trouble you any more. But look here,—if ever you should ill-treat her, whether you marry her or whether you don't, I'll crush every bone in your skin." Having so spoken he went to the door, but stopped himself before he left the room. "Good-bye, Clara. I've got a word or two more to say to you, but I'll write you a line down-stairs. You can show it to him if you please. It'll only be about business. Good-night."