"No, no," replied Henry Woodhall, fiercely, "I should think it base, pitiful, mean, deserving instant chastisement. As to the matter with Hortensia Danvers, I care not one straw. Let him win her and wear her if he will. I never thought of her--never thought of marriage at all--never shall, probably, till I find my mustachio turning gray, or have got the gout in my right foot. Then is the time for matrimony and a warm dressing-gown; but with Margaret he shall not trifle; and, if he do, he shall answer for it. On this subject I will make full inquiry from the dear girl herself. I shall know in a moment, for I have been well accustomed to read her looks. It can not be done to-night, however, for she has gone to rest. Have you aught else to say?"
"Nothing that I hold of very much importance," replied Robert; "two things, however, may as well be mentioned. First, he insulted me grossly when I was endeavoring to aid your sister after she fainted."
"That is your own affair," cried Henry Woodhall; "you can send him your cartel, and that is soon settled."
"You are mistaken," replied Robert, somewhat gloomily; "the Duke of Norfolk has laid me under an obligation to forbear, and given me to understand that he will have his eye continually upon me."
"Humph!" said Henry Woodhall, with a slight accent of contempt, for, to say truth, he did not hold his cousin's courage very highly, "What is number two?"
"It is a mere nothing in my eyes," answered Robert, smarting a little from his cousin's tone, "and doubtless you will think nothing of it either; for your sanctified men are abundant in charity to peccadilloes of the kind--especially when they are committed by themselves or their near relations. It is only this, that while making love to Margaret, and doubtless vowing his whole heart to her, he was amusing himself in another manner with a country girl in the neighborhood--nay, do not look contemptuous and unbelieving; of this I have the proof in my own hands. Nay, more, since he has been here--as, it would seem, the young lady is in a difficult position--he has sent his own servant over to see her, and bring him news of her estate."
"Why, he has no servant," replied Henry Woodhall. "He went away without one. That I heard at The Grange, for I thought to offer him my own lad Brown, that he might appear the better here."
"True--quite true," replied his cousin, with a laugh; "he kept the matter very quiet; for he would not have his father know of the politic arrangement. Oh, he is the most frank and candid of men! The way he managed was this: he made compensation for the sister's ruin by taking the brother into his high and mighty service. Other potentates and lordly men have done the same. Then, to conceal the transaction, he made the lad join him on the road, and uses him now as the go-between of himself and the sister."
"And can you prove all this?" asked Henry Woodhall, in a grave tone.
"Every word of it, step by step," replied Robert; "but I attach no importance to it."