“Yes. Would you like to examine it?” said the major.
“Who, I? No thank you, old fellow, I’m busy.”
“Where are you going, Jack?” said the major, as a thought just occurred to him.
“Over yonder—‘The Firs.’”
“To Fort Science, eh?” said the major, smiling; but only to look serious again directly. “Why, Jack, what for? Why are you going?”
“There, there, don’t interfere, Jem; it would not interest you. Precious unpleasant business, I can tell you. I must go, though.”
“What is the matter, Jack?”
“There, there, my dear fellow, what is the use of worrying me about it. Go on hunting for pezizas, or whatever you call them. This is a domestic matter, and doesn’t concern you.”
“Yes it does concern me, Jack,” replied the major. “You are going about that communication which Rolph made to us last night after dinner.”
“Well, hang it all, Jem, suppose I am; surely, as Glynne’s father, if I want to see the man who insulted her, and talk to him, there’s no occasion for you to interfere.”