At this action, so unlike her husband, Mrs. Pendyce blushed like a girl. Her eyes above his grey and close-cropped head seemed grateful that he did not reproach her, glad of that caress.
“I have some news to tell you, Horace. Helen Bellew has given George up!”
The Squire dropped her hand.
“And quite time too,” he said. “I dare say George has refused to take his dismissal. He's as obstinate as a mule.”
“I found him in a dreadful state.”
Mr. Pendyce asked uneasily:
“What? What's that?”
“He looked so desperate.”
“Desperate?” said the Squire, with a sort of startled anger.
Mrs. Pendyce went on: