Lord Carboro’ was the first to recover himself.
“This is no place for you, Miss Denville,” he said. “Will you place yourself under my protection? Or, no,” he added hastily; “Mr Barclay, take Miss Denville home.”
Barclay took a step towards Claire, who stood as if turned to stone, staring wildly at where her sister lay upon the turf, with Mellersh kneeling beside her, while Sir Harry Payne also lay without motion.
“Who was that man who struck Mrs Burnett?” said Lord Carboro’ sharply, but no one answered. “Mr Burnett,” he continued to that individual, as he stood aloof looking on, but speechless with mortification and rage. “Will no one speak? Who is this? You, Mellersh?”
“Yes,” was the reply, in a low, pained voice. “This is a terrible business, Lord Carboro’.”
“It generally is when a lady tries to elope and is stopped. Curse me, though, what a coward that Burnett was to set some one to strike her.”
“Did he?” said Mellersh, in a curious tone.
“Yes; didn’t you see? Is she fainting?”
“Yes,” said Mellersh. “Here, Linnell, help Miss Denville into the chaise, and she can support her sister.”
“No; I forbid it,” cried Lord Carboro’ sharply. “I—”