"And after that, if in her sorrow for having offended you, she had confessed to an untruth, should you have believed her then?"
"I might, or I might not," said the unhappy young man, sullenly. "At any rate, it is all over with us now," he added; "and as to that canting hypocrite who has come over you—"
Here he was interrupted by the strong, determined voice of Ralph Burgess, saying gravely, but good-temperedly notwithstanding—
"That will do. You must not abuse my sister, Walter. You don't know what you are saying, or how you are saying it. If you were not beside yourself, you would not do as you are doing. For my party I think your cousin has had a happy escape. There are two words which I have somewhere met with in the Bible that describe your feelings towards her, and these are 'implacable and unmerciful.' And if you don't mind my saying it, or if you do it doesn't much matter, there is another word that tells how you are conducting yourself now, and that is 'arrogantly.'"
"Oh, that is it! Is it?" said Walter, as leaving the room, he lighted his chamber-candle and was seen no more that night.
A brief note from Miss Burgess informed John Tincroft of the non-success of her attempted mediation. And while he was pondering what next he should do, the door of the room at the inn in which he had taken breakfast opened and admitted Wilson. The interview was short and sharp. Much abuse was heaped upon the head of poor John, who bore it patiently. And then, with a declaration that he had done with his cousin for ever, Walter said that the other might take his leavings and welcome.
"You will some day be sorry for the injustice you are now doing to your cousin," said John, sorrowfully; but the latch of the door was in Walter's hand as he spoke, and in the next instant he was gone.
There was nothing more for John after this but to return, not to the Manor House, but to Oxford, which place he disconsolately reached on the fifth day after his departure from it.
