His tone had changed from half-jest to whole earnest—from earnestness to ardour—from ardour to something bordering on defiance. But, with the last word scarcely out of his mouth, he checked himself, and ejaculated below his breath: "Good heavens!"
Mrs. Edmonstone had rushed sobbing from the room.
No one followed her. The others stared blankly, then indignantly, at Dick, in whose face concern began to show itself. Then young Maurice spoke up.
"If I were you," he said hotly to his brother, "I'd go after her, and tell her you have taken too much wine, and beg her pardon for making a fool of yourself!"
Dick darted an angry glance at him, but rose and stalked from the room. In point of fact, the wine had not had much to do with it—no more and no less than it has to do with anybody's after-dinner speech. At the same time, Dick had not been altogether in his right senses, either then or any time that day. He found his mother weeping as though her heart would break; whereat his own heart smote him so that he came to his senses there and then, and knelt in humility and shame at her feet.
"Dearest mother, forgive me!" he murmured again and again, and took her hand in his and kissed it.
"But are you—are you really going back—back over the seas?" she sobbed.
"Yes. I can't help it, mother! No one knows how miserable I have been over here. Forgive me—forgive me—but I can't stay! I can't indeed! But—but you shall come out too, and the others; and your life will be happier than it has been for years, once you are used to it."
Mrs. Edmonstone shook her head.
"No; it is impossible," she said with sudden decision.