But this point of view had never presented itself before to the inflated vanity of Ralph Pullen.
“Pities her!” he exclaimed, “the devil!”
“I daresay it seems incomprehensible to you that any woman should not be thankful to accept at your hands the crumbs that may fall from another’s table, but with regard to Miss Brandt, I assure you it is true! And even were it otherwise, I am certain Madame Gobelli would not admit you to her house. You know the sort of person she is! She can be very violent if she chooses, and the names she called you yesterday, were not pretty ones. I had much trouble, as your relative, to stand by and listen to them quietly. Yet I could not say that they were undeserved!”
“O well! I daresay!” returned Ralph, impatiently. “Let us allow, for the sake of argument, that you are right, and that I behaved like a brute! The matter lies only between Hally Brandt and myself. The old woman has nothing to do with it! She never met the girl till she went to Heyst. What I want to do is to see Hally again and make my peace with her! You know how easily women are won over. A pretty present—a few kisses and excuses,—a few tears—and the thing is done. I shouldn’t like to leave England without making my peace with the little girl. Couldn’t you get her to come to your chambers, and let me meet her there? Then the Baroness need know nothing about it!”
“I thought you told us just now, that you had had a reconciliation with Miss Leyton on condition that you were to be a good boy for the future. Does that not include a surreptitious meeting with Miss Brandt?”
“I suppose it does, but we have to make all sorts of promises where women are concerned. A nice kind of life a man would lead, if he consented to be tied to his wife’s apron-strings, and never go anywhere, nor see anyone, of whom she did not approve. I swore to everything she and old Walthamstowe asked me, just for peace’s sake,—but if they imagine I’m going to be hampered like that, they must be greater fools than I take them for!”
“You must do as you think right, Pullen, but I am not going to help you to break your word!”
“Tell me where the Red House is! Tell me whereabouts Hally takes her daily walks!” urged Captain Pullen.
“I shall tell you nothing—you must find out for yourself!”
“Well! you are damned particular!” exclaimed his cousin, “one would think this little half-caste was a princess of the Blood Royal. What is she, when all’s said and done? The daughter of a mulatto and a man who made himself so detested that he was murdered by his own servants—the bastard of a——”