‘Don’t talk Irish, sir,’ said his father. ‘I see where your impertinence comes from, and I will put a stop to it.’
Maurice gave back a step, amazed at his father’s unwonted anger, but far greater wrath was descending in the person of Mr. Cavendish Dusautoy, who came striding across the lawn, and planting himself before his father-in-law, demanded, ‘I beg to know, sir, if it is your desire that I should be deliberately insulted in this house?’
‘No one can be more concerned than I am at what has occurred.’
‘Very well, sir; then I require that this intolerable child be soundly flogged, that beggarly Irishman kicked out, and that infamous libel destroyed!’
‘Oh, papa,’ cried Maurice, ‘you promised me the picture should be safe!’
‘I promise you, you impudent brat,’ cried Algernon, ‘that you shall learn what it is to insult your elders! You shall be flogged till you repent it!’
‘You will allow me to judge of the discipline of my own family,’ said Mr. Kendal.
‘Ay! I knew how it would be! You encourage that child in every sort of unbearable impudence; but I have endured it long enough, and I give you warning that I do not remain another night under this roof unless I see the impertinence flogged out of him.’
‘Papa never whips me,’ interposed Maurice. ‘You must ask mamma.’
Mr. Kendal bit his lips, and Albinia could have smiled, but their sense of the ludicrous inflamed Algernon, and like one beside himself, he swung round, and declaring he should ask his uncle if that were proper treatment, he marched across the lawn, while Mr. Kendal exclaimed, ‘More childish than Maurice!’