“Ay—were they. And faith they've discovered it. I would you had seen the turtles in the arbor an hour ago, when I surprised them.”
His lordship attempted a smile, but achieved nothing more than a wry face and a change of color. His mother's eyes, observing these signs, grew on a sudden startled.
“Why, fool,” quoth she, “do you hold there still? Art not yet cured of that folly?”
“What folly, ma'am?”
“This folly that already has cost you so much. 'Sdeath! As I'm a woman, if you'd so much feeling for the girl, I marvel ye did not marry her honestly and in earnest when the chance was yours.”
The pallor of his face increased. He clenched his hands. “I marvel myself that I did not,” he answered passionately—and went out, slamming the door after him, and leaving her ladyship agape and angry.
CHAPTER XV. LOVE AND RAGE
Lord Rotherby, descending from that interview with his mother, espied Hortensia crossing the hall below. Forgetting his dignity, he quickened his movements, and took the remainder of the stairs two at a stride. But, then, his lordship was excited and angry, and considerations of dignity did not obtain with him at the time. For that matter, they seldom did.
“Hortensia! Hortensia!” he called to her, and at his call she paused.