“I mean to be,” said Mr. Eagles. “You ought to have gone long since. You ought never to have been here at all. Oh,” he said, with provoking composure, as Arthur began in fury to empty his drawers bodily into the portmanteau, “it is not necessary to clear out to-night. Nothing can happen before to-morrow. I don’t want to be unreasonable. You can stay for to-night.”
“Not another hour!” cried Arthur in his excitement, and he violently pulled out one drawer after another.
Mr. Eagles stood for a moment and watched him with a saturnine smile. At last he resumed.
“You had better go in comfort when you go; there is no such hurry all at once. To-morrow will do. Does your father, may I ask, know how your time has been occupied here?”
“Perhaps you have told him,” said Arthur, looking up from his hurried packing.
“No, Sir; I have not told him. I have nothing to do with it. I expressly said that I was not responsible for conduct; but he ought to have been informed all the same. I hope somebody has done it. If it were my business, if I had ever gone in for that sort of thing, I should have done it. I take no credit for being silent. It was no business of mine that you were making a fool of yourself. But on second thoughts, I think I have made a mistake. It was my business, more or less. The men ought not to have been subjected to such an example.”
“Mr. Eagles,” cried Arthur, furious, “do you mean me to toss you out of window, or throw you downstairs?”
“You are welcome to try,” said the little man, standing firm as a rock, with his legs wide apart; “perfectly welcome to try. I am out of training, it is true, but I am not afraid of you, and I mean that you should hear the truth for once before you leave my house. Your conduct, Sir, has been that of a fool—not a wicked fool, I am glad to say. If you had been deceiving that girl, it is I who would have kicked you downstairs, training or not; but though you’re honourable, you’re a fool, Sir; you’re sacrificing your life; for what?—for a delusion. No man of your position ever got on comfortably with a girl of hers, uneducated, uncultivated—”
“Have you nearly done?” asked Arthur, white with rage, and scarcely able to restrain himself.
“I have done altogether,” said Mr. Eagles. “You have my opinion, and that is all that is necessary. The house is shut up for the night. Don’t show yourself twice a fool by rushing out at this hour. Go to bed and quiet your heated brains, and go to-morrow. You are a fool, as I say, but you are not dishonourable, and I hope your idiocy may turn out better than it deserves to do. Good night.”