“My dear sir, no, I do not; and as soon as I found out what was the matter, I sent off a telegram, and paid for a horse messenger to ride over and set you at your ease.”
“Set me at my ease!” cried the Major, tugging the end of his great moustache into his mouth and gnawing it. “How can a man, sir, be at his ease who has lost his all—who sees his child brought to penury?”
“My dear sir,” began Clive.
“Silence, sir!” cried the Major, giving vent to the pent-up wrath which had been gathering. “Silence! Hear what I have to say. I received you at my home, believing you to be an honourable man—a gentleman. I did not draw back when I found that my poor child had been won over by your insidious ways, and I was weak enough to let you draw me into this cursed whirlpool, and persuade me to embark my little capital to be swept down to destruction.”
“Did I, sir?” said Clive quietly.
“No: I will be just, even in my despair. That was my own doing, for I was blinded by your representations of wealth to come. I know: I was a fool and a madman, and I am justly punished: but I did think, sir, that you would have met me differently to this. It is a trifle perhaps to you speculators, you mining gamblers. Your way of living here in this house shows that a few thousands more or less are not of much consequence to you.”
There was a look of grave sympathy in Clive’s face as he listened patiently to the angry visitor’s words: and twice over he made an effort to speak, but the Major furiously silenced him.
“Let me finish, sir,” he cried, speaking now almost incoherently, his face flushed, and the veins in his temples knotted. “I came here, sir, meaning to speak a few grave words of reproach—to tell you of the contempt with which you have inspired me; but—but—I—but I—oh, curse it all, sir, how could you let me fall into this pit—how could you come to me and win my confidence—my poor child’s confidence, and behave like a scoundrel to one who met you from the beginning as a friend?”
He ceased, and Clive rose from his chair, crossed to where he had thrown himself down, and laid a hand upon his shoulder.
“Major Gurdon—father,—what have I ever done to make you think me such a scoundrel?”