"Very well—very well. Neither advice nor interference shall you have, if it comes to that, young sir; but there is such a thing as authority. You are in my house, and in my employment, and I'll be hanged if I stand by and see you ruined. Unless you give me your word that you will hold no more communication with this woman, I shall go straight to Boldero Abbey, and speak to her—mark you—to her, myself."
"You?—To her?—You?"
"And if she will not hearken to me, I shall address myself to her father."
"To her father?"—in a soundless whisper.
"That's what I shall do. You can take your choice. Hollo!" For he saw what was going to happen, and pushed a chair beneath the nerveless limbs just in time. "Here! take a taste of this"—the doctor hurriedly poured from a small phial of brandy in his pocket, "take it,—or I'll pour it down your throat, silly loon. We'll not quarrel yet, you and I. And we'll talk no more at present; when we are both reasonable again, and can discuss this business doucely and decently, as between man and man, we will. Meantime just bide here a bit, and think it over. And, Tommy, ahem——?"
Tommy's moist hand stole out feebly, tremulously.
"You'll never let on to anybody about—about yon wee story of mine?"
"Poor lad—poor lad," said the doctor, going out presently wiping his eyes. "He's safe now. But, Lord, what a time I've had of it! And one false step—one straining of the line and it would have snapped like silk. Aye, aye; I played my fish on a single gut, and," triumphantly, "landed him! Landed him, by Jupiter!"
It was strictly true that chance had discovered to Leonore the existence of her village admirer, who otherwise most certainly would never have come within the sphere of her observation. But each was waiting to despatch a telegram, and something had gone wrong with the wires. It was nothing too serious to be remedied and that speedily, they were assured, and if they could wait a few minutes, all would be well. But the few minutes expanded into a quarter-of-an-hour, and then—perhaps it was she or perhaps it was he, or perhaps it was both at once who were electrified by the all-potent touch of opportunity.
On Leonore's part, here was a comely youth,—and she had seen the comely youth in Dr. Craig's gig, and guessed at once who he might be. Three months had passed since the collapse of Lady Butts' well-meant little scheme, and no one had stepped into the cast-off shoes of her philosophical nephew—and Leonore had been bored, sadly bored. True, Val was there, but since his perfunctory declaration, Val had lost his savour. Up till then, Leo had not been sufficiently certain of his real sentiments to make his company uninteresting, and had decided to probe them by way of experiment—but the excitement of the interview had fizzled out, and his honesty did him no service in the eyes of his charmer. She would now bring him straight in to where her sisters were assembled, if met outside—and as he was always happy and at home among them, he had not the wit to perceive that things had changed.