I had strolled about for above an hour, in the moody frame of mind my own reflections and the surrounding objects were well calculated to suggest, when, meeting by accident a subaltern with whom I was slightly acquainted, I heard that the court had that morning left the Lodge in the Park for Kilkenny, where the theatricals of that pleasant city were going forward—a few members of the household alone remaining, who were to follow in a day or two.
For some days previous I had made up my mind not to remain in Ireland. Every tie that bound me to the country was broken. I had no heart to set about forming new friendships while the wounds of former ones were still fresh and bleeding; and I longed for change of scene and active occupation, that I might have no time to reflect or look back.
Resolving to tender my resignation on the duke's staff without any further loss of time, I set out at once for the Park. I arrived there in the very nick of time; the carriages were at the entrance, waiting for the private secretary of his grace and two of the aides-de-camp, who were eating a hurried luncheon before starting. One of the aides-de-camp I knew but slightly, the other was a perfect stranger to me; but the secretary, Horton, was an intimate acquaintance. He jumped up from his chair as my name was announced, and a deep blush covered his face as he advanced to meet me.
'My dear Hinton, how unfortunate! Why weren't you here yesterday? It's too late now.'
'Too late for what? I don't comprehend you.'
'Why, my dear fellow,' said he, drawing his arm within mine, and leading me towards a window, as he dropped his voice to a whisper, 'I believe you heard from me that his grace was provoked at your continued absence, and expected at least that you would have written to ask an extension of your leave. I don't know how it was, but it seemed to me that the duchess came back from England with some crotchet in her head, about something she heard in London. In any case, they ordered me to write.'
'Well, well,' said I impatiently; 'I guess it all. I have got my dismissal. Isn't that the whole of it?'
He nodded twice, without speaking.
'It only anticipates my own wishes,' said I coolly, 'as this note may satisfy you.' I placed the letter I had written for the purpose of my resignation in his hand, and continued: 'I am quite convinced in my own mind that his grace, whose kindness towards me has never varied, would never have dreamed of this step on such slight grounds as my absence. No, no; the thing lies deeper. At any other time I should certainly have wished to trace this matter to its source; now, however, chiming as it does with my own plans, and caring little how fortune intends to treat me, I'll submit in silence.'
'And take no notice of the affair further?'