"And be branded by him afterwards as a coward—as no gentleman!" was Gall's irritable and indignant answer. "Talbot, there's not another word to be said. This was forced upon me in the first instance; but I have taken it up, and, having done so, there's no retreat."
"Then of course I can say no more; but I wish it were otherwise. At five o'clock in the morning, I'll be at the door here waiting for you. Good night. I've got a bet with Onions that he oversleeps himself. What fun if he should! He brings the pistols."
Talbot walked away in the direction of the Hotel des Bains; he had to see Leek yet; and Gall went up stairs to Dick's chamber in pursuance of his promise. Dick, however, proved to be in a sound sleep, so he turned to his mother's sitting-room. Mrs. Gall was seated at one end of the crimson-velvet sofa, complaining of a headache.
He had a headache, too, or perhaps it was a heartache; and he sat down on the sofa by her, and let his head fall upon her shoulder. Mrs. Gall was a little shrimp of a woman, with a great deal of love for her children and gentleness for the world in general, although the end of her nose was so sharp and red.
"Are you not going down to the salon, mother?"
"No, dear. They will send me some tea here."
"Nor to the rooms?"
"Not to-night, William. Papa's going, I think, with the rest. You are going too, I suppose?"
"No; I'll stay at home with you."
"Nay, my dear," remonstrated Mrs. Gall, supposing his motive was to keep her company; for she was accustomed to much consideration from her children, as a gentle, loving mother is sure to get. "I shall be quite well alone. You must not deprive yourself of the evening's pleasure for me. This ball to-night is the chief one of the season."