Jenny was silent, but she looked her brother bravely in the face till his brows knit with anger and self-reproach.
“What do you mean by that?” he cried, angrily.
“I was only thinking of the reason why you speak so bitterly, Pierce.”
“Pish!” he exclaimed; and there was another silence.
“Mrs Wilton came this afternoon and brought me a chicken and some wine and grapes,” said Jenny, at last.
“Like her insolence. Send them back.”
“No. She was very kind and nice, Pierce. She was full of self-reproach for the way in which poor Kate Wilton was treated.”
“Bah! What is that to us?”
“A great deal, dear. She is half broken-hearted about it, and says it was all the Squire’s doing, and that she was obliged. He wished his son to marry Kate.”
“The old villain!”