‘I will not sit down,’ he continued, loudly. ‘I will not stay another moment in this damned place. Here, Hannah, put on your cloak and bonnet at once, and come home with me. You sha’n’t hear another line of it.’
Hannah glanced at her brother and sister-in-law with infinite distress, which their looks returned, but, rising hastily, she whispered to Arthur,—
‘Don’t make any fuss. Let me go home with him. He is not well. Forgive me, Arthur; forgive us both, but don’t try to persuade him to stay.’
She threw her mantle over her shoulders as she spoke, and, putting her hand through her husband’s arm, said gently,—
‘Come, dear, I am quite ready to go home. Good-night, dear Arthur and Edie. Thanks so much,’ and, with that, she drew him quickly away.
When they had disappeared, Captain and Mrs Hindes looked at each other in sorrowful surprise.
‘What is the matter with him?’ asked Edith of Arthur. ‘Is he mad?’
‘I am very much inclined to believe it,’ replied her husband. ‘There is certainly something very wrong about him, and I shall speak to a doctor on the subject to-morrow. Hannah says he has refused to see anybody, but, when a man begins to be as unreasonable as this, it is time his friends acted for him. I have not had time to tell you how I found him this afternoon, but I will when we get home.’
‘I would rather return now if you have no objection, dearest,’ said Mrs Hindes. ‘This contretemps has taken away all my interest in the play. Poor Hannah! how I pity her.’