“I have my plans,” he answered; “I will tell you to-morrow. Where is my aunt?”
Isabel heard a step on the gravel outside.
“She is coming,” she said sharply. Hubert melted into the dark, and she saw the opposite door open and let him out.
The next day Hubert announced his plans to Sir Nicholas, and a conflict followed.
“I cannot go on, sir,” he said, “I cannot wait for ever. I am treated like a servant, too; and you know how miserably I am paid, I have obeyed you for six years, sir; and now I have thrown up the post and told my lord to his face that I can bear with him no longer.”
Sir Nicholas’ face, as he sat in his upright chair opposite the boy, grew flushed with passion.
“It is your accursed temper, sir,” he said violently. “I know you of old. Wait? For what? For the Protestant girl? I told you to put that from your mind, sir.”
Hubert did not propose as yet to let his father into all his plans.
“I have not spoken her name, sir, I think. I say I cannot wait for my fortune; I may be impatient, sir—I do not deny it.”
“Then how do you propose to better it?” sneered his father.