He flung himself out and banged-to the oak behind him. Mr. Tuke looked gravely at his companion.
“So, he hath told you?” he said.
“He revealed it when he was very wild with his wound. You have not treated me well, Sir Robert.”
“I have no claim to the title. My repudiation of it was a condition of this inheritance.”
“And so your chickens came home to roost. Fie, Sir Robert! With what character would you pay your court to an innocent lady?”
“How hath he maligned it? I will vindicate it against a dozen puppies of his kidney.”
“And to the glory of what Dulcinea?”
She looked at him searchingly; with what intention who shall say.
“Am I to read confirmation of the story in this hunting of a gallant by his kitchen wenches?”
“Why not? Slander is the hall-mark on virtue. ’Twas one of these ‘kitchen wenches,’ as I have the tale, was your salvation at the first.”