Cora’s faintness passed away, and the room ceased to glide round as her eyes brightened, and she felt as if she could have embraced that handsome roué, who always, bowed to her with such a look of insolent contempt.
“And then Mr Linnell came up and took Major Rockley’s whip away and beat him.”
Cora’s cheeks burned with jealous rage now. How dare Richard Linnell do that? And yet she liked him for it. He was so brave. But for Claire Denville! Her eyes flashed again.
“Then they met this morning, ma’am, down on the sands, and fought a real duel, and Major Rockley shot Mr Linnell.”
“It is not true!” cried Cora excitedly, and once more the room began to turn.
“Yes, ma’am, it’s quite true,” said Annie, with her mouth now full of cake.
Shot!—injured by Major Rockley! and she—she could not go down to him to wait upon him, and show him by her every act how she loved him.
A minute before she had been ready to bless Major Rockley. Now, curses were in her heart, as she thought of him raising his hand against Richard Linnell to strike him down.
“No, ma’am, he isn’t very bad,” Annie went on, in answer to a question of Mrs Dean.
“It can’t be true,” Cora said to herself, as her brain seemed to become a chaos of love, jealousy, hatred, and pride in the brave young fellow who had saved her life, and, civilian though he was, showed himself ready to meet such a notorious fire-eater as the Major.