“I told her the truth,” said Craven Black, puzzled by his son’s strange mood. “I explained to her kindly enough that her marriage with you was no marriage at all. She readily accepted the situation. She cried a little, to be sure, but she said herself that she was of lower rank than you, and that the match was too unequal. She—she said that of course all was over between you, and it was best you and she should never meet again. And in fact, to render any such meeting impossible, she left her lodging while I was there.”
Rufus fixed a burning gaze upon his father.
“I don’t believe a word you say,” he cried. “The news you carried to her broke my darling’s heart. Do you suppose I do not know how much she loved me? I was all she had in the wide world—her only friend. Think of that, sir! Her only friend—and you have torn me from her. If she dies of grief, you are her murderer.”
Craven Black shuddered involuntarily, remembering poor Lally’s flight, and his conviction that she had gone to destroy herself. His emotion did not pass unnoticed by his son.
“Poor Lally!” said Rufus, his voice trembling. “It’s all over between us forever. I have blighted her life, ruined her good name, and made her an outcast. Yet it was not I who did this. It was you. Her blood be upon your head. If I could find her and were free to woo her, she would never take me back, now that I have proved myself a liar, perjurer and pitiful wretched coward. It is indeed all over between us. You can do what you like with the wreck you have made me. You might have given me a chance to redeem myself; you might have let me be true to her, but you would make me perjure myself doubly. I hope you are pleased with your work.”
“Let there be an end of these silly boyish reproaches,” exclaimed Mr. Black harshly. “You have done with the girl, and are about to enter upon a new life. I have generously forgiven your errors and crimes. If you repeat the drunkenness of to-day, I’ll send you to prison. Try me, and see if I do not. I have brought you a trunk from London, filled with new clothing from your tailor, shirt-maker, boot-maker and jeweller. I have spared no expense to make you look as my son should look. And now, by Heaven, if you disgrace me to-night by any recklessness and folly, any mock despair, I’ll prosecute you on that charge of perjury.”
“You need not fear that I shall disgrace myself, or insult my hostess,” said Rufus doggedly. “You think no one has the instincts of a gentleman save yourself.”
With such recriminations as these, the pair beguiled their drive to Wyndham; nor did they cease from them after their arrival in Mr. Black’s private parlor. A sullen silence succeeded in good time, and reigned throughout the dinner, of which they partook together. After dinner, they retired to their several rooms to dress.
The trunk Mr. Black had brought from London had been deposited in his son’s chamber. Rufus had the key, and unlocked the receptacle, bringing to light an ample supply of fine garments, perfume cases, a dressing case, and a set of jewelled shirt studs in a little velvet case.
He arrayed his boyish figure in his new black garments, noticing even in his despair that they fitted him as if he had been measured for them. He waited in his room until his father came for him, and submitted sullenly to his father’s careful inspection.