“Well—the truth is—not exactly her wish; but you see, my dear sir, it is a delicate affair—your remaining here, now that you are almost quite recovered, upon which I congratulate you—and—and—”
“Go on, sir!”
“Your remaining here any longer—under the circumstances—would be—you can judge for yourself, sir—would be, in fact, a thing that would be talked about in the neighbourhood—in fact, considered highly improper.”
“Hold, Monsieur Gayarre! I am old enough not to require lessons in etiquette from you, sir.”
“I beg pardon, sir. I do not mean that but—I—you will observe—I, as the lawful guardian of the young lady—”
“Enough, sir. I understand you perfectly. For your purposes, whatever they be, you do not wish me to remain any longer on this plantation. Your desire shall be gratified. I shall leave the place, though certainly not with any intention of accommodating you. I shall go hence this very evening.”
The words upon which I had placed emphasis, startled the coward like a galvanic shock. I saw him turn pale as they were uttered, and the wrinkles deepened about his eyes. I had touched a chord, which he deemed a secret one, and its music sounded harsh to him. Lawyer-like, however, he commanded himself, and without taking notice of my insinuation, replied in a tone of whining hypocrisy—
“My dear monsieur! I regret this necessity; but the fact is, you see—the world—the busy, meddling world—”
“Spare your homilies, sir! Your business, I fancy, is ended; at all events your company is no longer desired.”
“Humph!” muttered he. “I regret you should take it in this way—I am sorry—”