"I did think that my own daughter had some decent feeling in her," he meditated sadly; "but she's like everyone else--selfish in the extreme. Oh, it's no wonder that I hate everyone. People think only of themselves. Now what the dickens do you want? Hang you!"
This last question he asked aloud, being still at the window, he saw Rupert open the little garden gate and walk briskly up to the door. As Dorinda had gone one way and Rupert had come another, Mallien never dreamed that there was any understanding between them, or that his daughter had departed so as to afford her lover a chance of speaking to her very egotistic parent. This had been arranged between the two on the previous day, and to carry out the scheme Hendle knocked at the door of his cousin with the will in his pocket. Before he left the cottage he was determined to force Mallien into plain speaking. Things were much too dangerous to permit any further beating about the bush.
"Well, and what do you want?" said Mallien, repeating his former question as he opened the door to the visitor.
"I want to see you," said Hendle very pointedly. "It is time we had an explanation."
"About what?"
"About this," and Rupert pulled the soiled and crumpled parchment out of his pocket--"the will of John Hendle."
"Oh! So you have it. And how did you get it, may I ask?"
"You can ask in your own room," said Rupert politely. "I can scarcely give you an explanation on the door-step."
"Afraid of consequences to yourself," grumbled Mallien, nevertheless yielding so far as to lead the way into his sanctum.
"Oh, dear me, no," replied the visitor, seating himself. "Afraid of consequences to you."