CHAPTER XX. LORD KILGOFF DETERMINES TO “MEET” ROLAND
Is he not too old for such gambols?
—Sir Raymond.
Cashel was in no mood to join his company after such a scene, and hastening upstairs, he entered his dressing-room. What was his surprise to see that Linton was seated in an easy-chair, before the fire, enjoying a cigar and a new novel, with all the cool negligence of his unruffled nature.
“At last!” cried he, as Cashel entered. “I have been waiting here most impatiently to know how you got through it.”
“Through what!—how—what do you mean?”
“That affair with Kilgoff. I slipped away when I saw that he would enter the boudoir, after having coughed and sneezed like a grampus, in the hope of attracting your attention; but you were so confoundedly engrossed by my Lady's agreeability,—so excessively tender—”
“Linton, I must stop you at once. I may barter some of my own self-respect for quietness' sake, and let you talk this way of me, but you shall not do so of another.”
“Hang it, man, she is an older friend than yourself. I have known her these seven years—as little more than a child.”
“Your friendship would seem a costly blessing, if you understand its duties always in this fashion.”
“I hope it will admit of a little frankness, at all events,” said he, affecting a laugh. “It will be too bad if you both fall out with me for watching over your interests.”