“No, no, dear boy, we won’t put it like that,” said the earl, seeing that he had hurt the young fellow’s feelings, and laying on his shoulder a kindly hand, which Rees instantly shook off, as if by an accidental stumble. “We’ll forget all about it, we’ll decide that you never for a moment dreamt of such folly as asking for one of my poor dowerless, unattractive girls. Why, lad, what would you live on?”
“I may be rich some day,” said Rees quietly.
“Well, well, so you may, and then you can marry a beautiful woman, and treat her a great deal better than most of us treat our wives. And mind, my boy, I like the impulse which made you feel you would like to be something nearer to me; for that, I am sure, was what first put this mad notion into your head. And I have a proposal to make to you, which I hope may lead to something more satisfactory than this unlucky one of yours. I have an opening for a steward on my Midland property, and you, with your love of the open air, and of riding and driving, would find it an easy and pleasant berth. I need not tell you that I should treat you in a very different spirit from that which I should show to anybody else. And I should overlook any shortcomings which might arise from want of experience——”
“You may save yourself the trouble of making excuses for me, my lord,” interrupted Rees, whose handsome face was white with passion. “You will not have me for a son-in-law; well, at any rate, you shall not have me for a servant, and I wish your ugly daughters better husbands.”
Lord St. Austell looked up in pain and amazement. But Rees had left him, and was speeding back towards Carstow. The earl’s face grew very grave as he asked himself what miracle could have wrought such a hideous change in the frank, generous-spirited lad.
In the meantime, Rees reached the little town, still in a tempest of passion. He called in at the library; Goodhare was out. He hurried home, dashed through the garden, and into the house by one of the back windows, without noticing that there seemed to be an unusual silence and stillness about the place. A servant whom he met ran out of his way, as if afraid to meet him. Deborah burst out crying at sight of him, and tried to detain him at the foot of the stairs. But she could not speak, and after waiting by her side impatiently for a few seconds, Rees gently pushed her aside, and mounted the staircase to his mother’s room.
With her he was sure of sympathy, no matter what he had done; no matter, too, how much in the wrong he might be.
He burst open the door, and dashed into the room.
Mrs. Pennant was there, but she was not sitting as usual, knitting in her low armchair by the window. She had his father’s desk on her knees, and was busy, with Godwin, reading over the papers it contained. Her eyes were red with crying, but her face wore a set, stern expression of responsibility and anxiety. Godwin also looked sad and anxious. Both mother and son started at his abrupt entrance, and the former, holding out her arms towards him, tried to smile as she asked him where he had been.
“To meet Lord St. Austell,” answered Rees, bewildered by the strange reception he met with from every one. “And what do you think, mother, he presumed to offer me?”