“Ah, but Clive shall know of this. But you have told him? Why has he not dismissed the hound?”
“No, I have not told Clive, father—not any one. Some day I must tell him—but not now.”
“Really, my darling!” cried the Major, whose face was flushed, and the veins were starting in his forehead.
“Father, this is very, very painful to me, your child,” she pleaded; “and I beg—I pray that you will say no more.”
“What! not have him punished?”
“No; not now. He is punished, dearest. But we cannot go to his help.”
“Help,” cried the Major furiously. “I should kill him.”
Dinah laid her hands upon his breast, and at last he bent down and kissed her.
“May I tell Clive when he comes?”
“No, dearest,” said Dinah, in quite a whisper, and with her face very pale now, while her voice was almost inaudible; “that must come from me.”