“I’ll kill him as I would some venomous beast.”
He threw himself into a chair and sat looking white and changed for quite an hour before he rose up and drew a long deep breath.
“Dead!” he said softly; “dead! Now, then, to bear it—like a man—and show no sign.”
There was a gentle tap at the door.
“May I come in, sir, please?”
“Eh? Oh yes, Mrs Sarson. What is it?”
“I was going to—Oh my dear, dear boy!”
The poor woman caught his hand in hers, and kissed it, as her tears fell fast.
“Why, Mrs Sarson,” he said, smiling, “what’s the matter?”
“Oh, my dear,” she said; “you haven’t lived here with me all these years from quite a boy as you were, without me feeling just like a mother to you. And you so alone in the world. I know what trouble you’re in, and what you must feel; and it hurts me too.”