As he speaks he helps himself leisurely to some strawberries, and so refrains from looking at his uncle.
"No," says The Desmond, shortly.
"Some old quarrel I have been given to understand."
"I should prefer not speaking about it," says the squire.
"Twinges of conscience even at this remote period," thinks Brian, and is rather tickled at the idea, as he lifts his head to regard his uncle in a new light,—that is, as a regular Don Juan.
"Well, of course, I dare say I should not have mentioned the subject," he says, apologetically; "but I had no idea it was a sore point. It was not so much bad taste on my part as ignorance. I beg your pardon!"
"It was a very unhappy affair altogether," says Don Juan.
"Very unfortunate indeed, from what I have heard."
"More than unfortunate!—right down disgraceful!" says the squire, with such unlooked-for energy as raises astonishment in the breast of his nephew. ("By Jove, one would think the old chap had only now awakened to a sense of his misconduct," he thinks, irreverently.)
"Oh, well," he says, leniently, "hardly that, you know."