Bewildered by so many questions, Mrs. Warren could only reply to that which came last.
“Oh! Charles, how could I be so rude?” she answered, “Major Gordon, you should remember, saved our lives—”
“That’s the very difficulty,” broke in her nephew. “I wish the intermeddler had been at the bottom of the ocean.”
“But we should have been drowned then,” and Mrs. Warren held up her hands. “You don’t mean what you say, Charles.”
“Well, then, I wish I’d been there—”
“I wish so, too, from the bottom of my heart,” said Mrs. Warren, beginning to cry, for his impetuosity had quite unnerved her.
“There, aunt,” he said, curbing his passion, “don’t. I’m sure I never intended to hurt your feelings.” And he approached and kissed her.
“Nor have you, my dear boy,” sobbed Mrs. Warren, throwing herself on his neck, and crying for a while hysterically. “But I’m sure nobody can blame me. I always knew there’d be trouble. I felt it from the first. I was satisfied you wouldn’t approve of such an acquaintance, any more than our cousin, Lord Danville, would.”
“Confound the old fool!” muttered Aylesford to himself. Then, giving up to his impatience, he said aloud. “It’s not as an acquaintance I care about him. But,” and he forgot himself so much as to utter a savage oath, “the fellow will be having Kate in love with him.”
Mrs. Warren sank into a chair, holding up both her hands.