‘Because I thought an appeal to you as a gentleman,’—there was a plain sneer in his intonation—‘which I fancied you were, would have the desired effect.’
‘Do you dare to say I am not a gentleman? By George, I’ll—’
‘I dare do more than that. Listen to me, Mr. Farrington; I swear you shall not do her harm. I’ll break every bone in your body.’
‘This is rank mutiny, by George. I’ve a good mind to put you in arrest. Do you dare to threaten your superior officer, sir?’ and Ernest walked off as the simplest way of ending the discussion.
Herbert had one other card to play. He wrote a full account of the whole affair to Sir Rupert Farrington, and signed his name.
Sir Rupert would probably have cared as little for Ernest’s proceedings, from the moral point of view, as did Diggle, but he had a not unnatural dread of entanglements, especially where so weak a person as his son was concerned. Moreover, although enraged against Larkins, and somewhat uneasy at the tone of the letter in which Herbert made pointed reference to his claims, and hinted mysteriously at certain close relations between the Larkins’ and Farringtons, Sir Rupert felt it wisest not to enlighten Diggle further. He satisfied himself with writing at once to his son-in-law, begging him to let Ernest have leave and send him home. This Diggle did, without other reason than that Sir Rupert wished it, and Ernest, very obediently as it seemed, fell into the trap.
The young gentleman was, however, deeper than they gave him credit for being. He went home by the next mail, but Mimie Larkins followed him within a week, as soon as she could give her unhappy parents the slip; and thus, for the second time, Mrs. Larkins had reason to curse the Farrington name.
END OF VOL. I.
LONDON:
ROBSON AND SONS, PRINTERS, PANCRAS ROAD, N.W.