"Do you mean to insult me; doubt m' word!" he said savagely. "Carson's been with me since his father died. Didn't lose sight of him till marriage. 'S matter fact, don't 'prove the way he's treated wife; that's another reason I'm goin' Italy, to bring him back and see things square before I return t'India."
"If you can do that, Major, you will be extremely clever; but I doubt very much your being able to persuade this stray lamb to return."
"Make him, if only to prove you and Mrs. Purcell wrong."
"Oh, I!--I have nothing to do with it. Carson may be the great Cham, for all I care; but Mrs. Purcell will not be so easily satisfied. You know her."
"Rather; interferin' old cat, that she is. Says Carson isn't Carson, does she? What the deuce does the woman mean?"
"You had better ask her, Semberry, and settle the matter offhand."
"I'll ask her," said the Major, furiously. "What's more, I'll bring back Carson himself to give her the lie. Hang it! she reflects on m' honour as an officer and gentleman."
"Oh, you know what ladies are," replied Mallow, laughing but observant; "once get an idea into their heads, and there is no getting it out again. Mrs. Purcell, on the authority of that portrait, declares that the man who married Miss Bellairs is not Carson; an idle theory of hers, if you will, but one she is bent upon proving."
"She can't," contradicted Semberry, testily. "Man is Carson right enough. I ought to know, and I say so. Will bring him back, I tell you, just to prove it. Whole thing's silly nonsense."
Mallow yawned.