“No, you won’t,” said Claud, looking him full in the eyes, with his lips tightening together. “You can’t be such a coward before her, and upset her more. Ask her if I’ve insulted her.”
“No, no, indeed, Pierce; Mr Wilton has been most kind and gentlemanly—more so than I could have expected,” stammered Jenny, in fear.
“Gentlemanly,” cried Pierce scornfully. “Then it is by your invitation he is here. Oh, shame upon you.”
“No, it isn’t,” cried Claud stoutly. “She didn’t know I was coming, and when I did come she ordered me off—so now then.”
“Then leave this house.”
“No, I won’t, till I’ve said what I’ve got to say; so put down that whip before you hurt somebody, more, perhaps, than you will me. You’re not her father.”
“I stand in the place of her father, sir, and I order you to go.”
“Look here, Doctor, don’t forget that you are a gentleman, please, and that I’m one, too.”
“A gentleman!” cried Pierce angrily, “and dare to come here in my absence and insult my sister!”
“It isn’t insulting her to come and tell her how sorry I am she has been ill.”