“You don’t feel it so much, then?” said Mr Bennett, not quite sure whether he liked this or not.
“I imagine you would hardly begrudge me that alleviation?”
“O, certainly not, certainly not! I’m exceedingly relieved to find the blow not so heavy as we feared it might be. Then I presume the unfortunate affair may be allowed to drop as quietly as we can arrange between us?”
“I shall not call out Warren, nor begin a lawsuit, if that is what you mean. As to the quietness, I have no doubt that by this time all Underham knows that Miss Lovell has thrown me over.”
“Confound Mrs Featherly!” muttered Mr Bennett, under his breath.
“Don’t be uneasy. In these cases it is always the rejected who is the object of scorn. Besides, is not Warren the heir to a baronetcy?”
“I don’t know what you mean. It was none of my seeking,” said Mr Bennett, hotly.
“Well, well, you should allow for a man’s grimacing a little when he finds himself in such an unexpected position. Now, as the news has been broken to me, and we are not on the way for anywhere so far as I am concerned, I will jump out, and wish you good by.”
Mr Bennett reined up the old grey so suddenly that he almost threw her on her haunches.
“Good heavens, what am I about!” he said apologetically. “This business has quite upset me. And I honestly tell you, Miles, I don’t understand your way of taking it. In my days, if my wife had treated me so, I—I should have cut my throat—though I’m sure I don’t want you to do anything so rash. Still—”