“So I did. Yes, so I did, but I don’t like him now. I don’t like his ways. Pugh, if I was a married man, I would not have that fellow in my house for worlds.”
“My dear John Studwick,” said Dutch, uneasily, “this is foolish. He is a foreigner, and it is his way.”
“I don’t like his way,” cried the young man, whose cheeks were flushed and eyes unnaturally bright. “If he won Bessy from me, I should kill him. I was afraid of you once, but that’s passed now.”
“But, my dear boy,” said Dutch, laying his hand on his shoulder, “you must expect your sister to form an attachment some day.”
“Yes, some day,” said the young man. “Some day; but let her wait till I’m gone. I couldn’t bear to have her taken from me now. She is everything to me.”
“My dear Studwick, don’t talk like that.”
“Why not?” he replied with a strange look. “Do you think I don’t know? I shall only live about six months: nothing will save me.”
“Nonsense, man! That sea trip will set you right again. Come, let’s get back into the drawing-room.”
He led the way back, and, seeking his opportunity, whispered to Bessy Studwick that her brother was low-spirited, and taking her from the Cuban’s side, he made John Studwick happy by bringing her to him.
The Cuban’s eyes flashed, and he arose and crossed the room, so that when Dutch looked in that direction it was to see that he whispered something to Hester, who glanced across at him where he was standing by Bessy.