‘I don’t know why, but I know he has done it,’ returned Chumney. ‘Read that!’
He handed Mr. Piper a cutting from Bell’s Life.
‘That’s from a paper two Sundays old,’ he said, ‘but I only got it last night.’
It was the description of a sale of hunters at Tattersall’s. The following paragraph was marked at the side in red ink:—
‘One of the gems of the stud was Erebus, a lady’s hack, fifteen two, rising six, black, without a white hair about him, and perfect in every point. This horse was knocked down to Captain Standish, at three hundred and thirty guineas, after a lively competition.’
‘How do I know it is the same horse he bought for my wife?’ asked Mr. Piper, when he had read the paragraph.
‘I don’t see much room for doubt. It’s neither a common name nor a common colour. Of course there may be no particular harm in a man spending his money to eke out your gift to your wife, but I think it puts you in a false position.’
‘Think!’ roared Mr. Piper. ‘It puts me in a position that will oblige me to kick Captain Standish out of my house; and if I thought my wife knew it—knew that she was riding a horse bought with that man’s money—I would shut my doors upon her as readily as upon him. I may be a fool about Bella, but I’m only a fool within certain limits. There are bounds, Chumney—bounds that I shan’t overstep. But I don’t believe she knows it—no, she could not be so ungrateful—she could not be so base as to degrade me in any man’s eyes—after my lavishing my money upon her—picking her out of the gutter to make a duchess of her—giving her an honest man’s love into the bargain. No, I can believe anything of that fellow’s audacity, but nothing against her. Don’t ask me to think ill of her.’
‘I don’t,’ said Chumney; ‘but I think it’s high time this philandering with Captain Standish should be put a stop to, and I fancy I’ve shown you a good reason for stopping it. I hope you don’t think I’ve gone beyond my duty as a friend.’
‘No, Chumney, no; you have done your duty, and I shall do mine. The horse shall go back to Standish’s stable this afternoon, and Standish shall never cross my threshold again. But if you hear men talk of this at the club, be sure you tell them that my wife knew nothing about it. She has been the victim of a fop’s impertinence—that’s all.’