“You are a hard hitter. But you’ve certainly lost the game now.”
Here he made an effort, and with Gaston’s assistance got to his feet. At that moment Falby entered to say that Sir William was not in the house. With a wave of the hand Gaston dismissed him. Deathly pale, his uncle lifted his eyebrows at the graceful gesture.
“You do it fairly, nephew,” he said ironically yet faintly,—“fairly in such little things; but a gentleman, your uncle, your elder, with fists—that smacks of low company!”
Gaston made a frank reply as he smothered his pride
“I am sorry for the blow, sir; but was the fault all mine?”
“The fault? Is that the question? Faults and manners are not the same. At bottom you lack in manners; and that will ruin you at last.”
“You slighted my mother!”
“Oh, no! and if I had, you should not have seen it.”
“I am not used to swallow insults. It is your way, sir. I know your dealings with my father.”
“A little more brandy, please. But your father had manners, after all. You are as rash as he; and in essential matters clownish—which he was not.”