The conversation during dinner-time seemed to drag; there was a feeling of restraint between the three younger members of the party which the Squire, who was overflowing with good-humoured happiness, failed to notice. He talked freely and well, and Ulick was glad of it. From time to time he glanced at Warren and thought—
"If he knew I had met Janet, and seen him in Mrs. Hoffman's house at Feltham, I wonder what he would do? He knows he has done me an irreparable injury, and yet it does not seem to trouble him much."
After dinner Warren Courtly said he had letters to write, and asked to be excused for half an hour.
The Squire went into the reading-room, "Just for a quiet doze," he said, smiling, and Irene and Ulick were left alone. They went on to the balcony and sat down. It was a beautiful May evening, much warmer than usual, and the air was refreshing after the heat of the room.
"You cannot know how the Squire has suffered during your absence," she said, after a few remarks on various topics. "Do you not think he is older, I mean has aged very much?"
"Yes," replied Ulick, "and I am very sorry if I have been the cause. Still, I could not have acted otherwise. I would do it again if necessary."
She wished to ask him if his father believed in him, knew he had accused him unjustly, but it was a delicate matter. Still, they were old friends, and there could be no harm in it.
"Is the Squire satisfied he made a mistake, and he was in the wrong?" she asked.
"Yes, I have that satisfaction, although I cannot return to Hazelwell at present."
"Not return!" she exclaimed, in surprise. "What reason can there possibly be for that?"