“Well, I dare say the old horse would thank you if you did. But I don’t see why you should take on so just because I’ve been answering your questions. I expect it’s all true, and that you do want to marry him, or else you’re left on the beach like the dogfish. But if you are, it’s no reason why you should be cross with me.”
“I’m not cross, Willie, I am not indeed; but you don’t understand that I can’t bear this kind of gossip.”
“Then you’d better get out of Bradmouth as fast as you can, Joan, for you’ll have lots of it to bear there, I can tell you. Why, I’m downright sick of it myself,” answered the merciless Willie. Then he lapsed into a dignified silence, that for the rest of the journey was only broken by his exhortations to the sweating horse, and the sound of the whacks which he rained upon its back.
At length they reached Monk’s Lodge, and drove round to the side entrance, where Joan got down hurriedly and walked to the servants’ door.
CHAPTER XIX.
RIGHTEOUS INDIGNATION.
On the day before Sir Reginald’s funeral Mr. Samuel Rock presented himself at Monk’s Lodge, and was shown into the study. As he entered Mr. Levinger noticed that his mien was morose, and that dejection beamed from his pale blue eyes, if indeed dejection can be said to beam.
“I fancy that my friend’s love affairs have gone wrong,” he thought to himself; “he would scarcely look so sulky about a cow shed.” Yet it was of this useful building that he began to speak.
“Well, Mr. Rock,” he said cheerfully, “have they dug out the foundations of that shed yet?”
“Shed, sir?” answered Samuel (he pronounced it shodd): “I haven’t come to speak to you about no sheds. I have come to speak to you about the advice you gave me as to Joan Haste.”
“Oh! yes, I remember: you wanted to marry her, didn’t you? Well, did you take it?”