“I did, Tregenna. I pleaded your cause as hard as if it had been my own; but she is as firm as so much granite. My dear fellow, I am very sorry, but I am afraid you must give it up.”
“It’s a lie—a cursed lie!” roared Tregenna, who could not control his rage and disappointment. “You have been fighting against me all along, and it is by your orders that she throws me over. I see it all now. You have been playing a cursed, double-faced, traitorous part, and I was a fool to trust to your smooth tongue. But mark my words, Penwynn—”
“John Tregenna,” said Mr Penwynn, rising and speaking with dignity, “you are now in a passion, produced by what is, of course, a bitter disappointment; but pray in what manner have I failed towards you that you should make such an unfair charge?”
“What have you done?” cried Tregenna, grinding his white teeth. “Did you not lead me on for your own ends to believe that she would accept me, and submit me to the humiliation of this second refusal, which I feel sure now was at your instigation.”
“Mr Tregenna,” said the banker, quietly, but with anger striving for the mastery, “will you have the goodness to go now. Some other time when you are cool I shall be willing to talk to you. We cannot discuss the matter now, for it would be better that we two should not come to an open quarrel.”
Tregenna snatched up his hat, darted a fierce look at the speaker, and strode towards the door, passed out, but in the act of banging it after him he recovered the mastery over his maddened brain.
He came back, closed the door after him softly, threw himself into a chair, and sat down with his forehead resting upon his hands.
Mr Penwynn stood by the table, with one hand in his breast, watching him, and for a time there was an impressive silence in the room.
At the end of a few minutes Tregenna drew a long, deep breath, and rose with his face calm, and a saddened look softening his eyes. He let fall his hands, rose, and advanced towards Rhoda’s father.
“Forgive me, Penwynn,” he said, humbly. “Let me apologise for what I said just now. Forgive me. You cannot tell the agony I suffered, nor conceive the utter feeling of despair and disappointment, nor the rage which seemed to force me to speak as I did. It is over,” he said, as if to himself, “over now. But you will forgive me, Penwynn?”