“Clarence, what an infernal fool you were to bring that fellow down here.”
“On the contrary,” said Clarence, “I think it was a very gentlemanly and courteous act, under the circumstances. He saved Bertha’s life, and I think it was due to him to give him an opportunity to see her.”
“Oh, yes,” snarled his father, “it is all right for him to come and see her, but she is a silly girl. She knows how to swim and she could have gotten ashore all right that day, but she thinks she owes her life to him and, no doubt, if he asked her to marry him, she would be agreeable; not because she loved him, but out of gratitude.”
“Well,” said Clarence, “I may be the infernal fool you say I am, but I do not think Bertha is so bereft of sense that she would marry any man out of simple gratitude. If she loves Jack De Vinne, she will marry him because she loves him and not for any other reason.”
“Well,” said his father, “she shan’t marry him, and you know the reason. I shall count upon you to help me; besides, it is for your interest to do so. You remember I told you that, if she does not marry you, she shall not marry any one else. If she tries to, I shall find a way to stop it.”
“Is that all you’ve got to say?” asked Clarence. “This conversation is very disagreeable to me; in fact, I can’t see the point to it. If Mr. De Vinne had asked Bertha to marry him and she had consented, there would be an exigency for us both to face but, under the circumstances, I see no reason why either you or I should be deprived of our night’s rest. I’m going out for a little walk in the park. I will tell Brinkley to wait up for me until I get back. Good-night, father, and pleasant dreams.”
When Monday morning came and Jack’s visit was at an end, he had no inclination to return to London. Victor had gone to join his ship. Clarence was going to the city to attend to business, and Jack, naturally, accompanied him.
Mr. Glynne, Sr., invited him to come again, but there was no great warmth in the invitation.
Jack had hoped that he would be able to speak a few words to Bertha in private, but Mr. Glynne was omnipresent, and beyond a shake of the hand and a parting glance—friendly in its nature but nothing more—Jack’s romance came to an end, for the time, at least.
When he reached London he determined to go at once to Noxton Hall. Mr. Glynne had advised him to talk the matter over with his father and he had decided to do so.