“Do say that again,” she cried, when Mr. Long had come to her.
“What do you command me to say again, madam?” he inquired. “Oh, a duel? Heavens, Mr. Sheridan, is’t possible that you are here and have not yet convinced Miss Linley that I shall not have to fight a duel?”
“Nay, sir,” said Dick, “I have done my best to impress upon her that there is no need for you to fight—that the quarrel belongs as much to any gentleman who was present as it does to you.”
“You will pardon me for saying that I do not think that that suggestion would tend to place Miss Linley’s mind at rest,” said Mr. Long. “But now I can give you my word that there will be no duel. If any one is foolish enough to send a challenge to the rascal whom I treated to a drubbing, he will do so without my knowledge and without my consent. Dear child, I can give you my word that there will be no duel.”
“I am satisfied,” she said simply, with a grateful look up to his face.
“If you are satisfied, all the world is satisfactory,” said Mr. Long.
But it did not appear as if Mr. Linley was quite satisfied.
“If there be no duel, sir, all that I can say is that ’tis not your fault,” he cried.
“Not my fault!—nay, just the contrary: ’tis to my credit,” laughed Mr. Long.
“I mean, sir, that you did your very best to provoke a duel,” said Mr. Linley with severity. Mr. Long was about to become his son-in-law, and this he considered, gave him a right to object to any incident that tended to jeopardise the connection.