"Oh, d—— Cobden! One has enough of him in the House,—quite."
"But I have not that advantage."
"You shall have some of these days. I'll make over the Battersea Hamlets to you as soon as I can get a judge's wig on my head. But I'm thinking of other things now. I wonder whether you and Caroline Waddington ever will be man and wife?"
"Probably about the time that you are made a judge."
"Ha! ha! Well, I hope if you do do it, it will come off before that. But I doubt it's coming off at all. Each of you is too proud for the other. Neither of you can forgive what the other has done."
"What do you mean? But to tell you the truth, Harcourt, I have no great inclination to discuss that matter just at present. If you please, we will leave Miss Waddington alone."
"What I mean is this," said the embryo judge, perseveringly, "that you are too angry with her on account of this enforced delay, and she is too angry with you because you have dared to be angry with her. I do not think you will ever come together."
Bertram looked full at Harcourt as this was said, and observed that there was not the usual easy, gentlemanlike smile on the barrister's face; and yet the barrister was doing his best to look as usual. The fact was, that Harcourt was playing a game, and playing it with considerable skill, but his performance was not altogether that of a Garrick. Something might have been read in his face had Bertram been cunning enough to read it. But Bertram was not a cunning man.
Bertram looked full in the other's face. Had he been content to do so and to say nothing, he would have gained his point, and the subject would have been at once dropped. Harcourt then could have gone no further. But Bertram was now angry, and, being angry, he could not but speak.
"Harcourt, you have interfered once before between me and Miss Waddington—"