"Do you think you are serving him or yourself by the tone you are adopting?" asked Mr. Manners, rising from his chair.
It was an indication to Nansie, and she obeyed it, and stood before him.
"I have not thought of that, sir; I am thinking only of what is right. Forgive me for having intruded myself upon you, and allow me to leave you. If your son is living--sometimes, in my despair, I fear the worst, he has been so long absent--and returns home, perhaps you will inform him of the proposition you have made to me, and of the manner in which I received it."
"That is a threat that you will do so."
"No, sir, it is not; he will hear nothing from me. Heaven forbid that by any future act of mine I should help to widen the breach between you? Good-morning, sir."
She did not make her uncle acquainted with what had passed between Mr. Manners and herself; she simply said that Mr. Manners had refused to see her, that she had waited for him in the street, and that she had learned from him that he had not heard from Kingsley.
"Did he speak kindly to you?" asked Mr. Loveday.
"No; he is bitterly incensed against me, and looks upon me with aversion. If I had ever a hope that he would relent towards us it is gone now forever. Uncle, is it my fancy that you are looking strangely at me?"
"Your fancy, my dear," replied Mr. Loveday, with a smile which he endeavored to make cheerful. "Why should I look strangely at you? Your interview with Mr. Manners has unnerved you."
"Yes," said Nansie, "it must be so. When Kingsley returns he must not know of my visit to his father. It will make him angry and uncomfortable."