CHAPTER III.—MR. PEEBLES RECEIVES A MESSAGE.
His lordship welcomed the appearance of the two young people as a relief from the further discussion of a painful topic.
‘So, young madam,’ he said to Dulcie, pinching her ear, ‘you’ve come back! And where have you been all the afternoon?’
‘On the sands,’ said Dulcie. ‘You’re not angry with me, are you?’ she asked, kissing him in a coaxing fashion, for the tone in which he had spoken was a little sharp. ‘I was so sorry to hear that you had been upset.’
‘It wouldn’t have happened if you had been at the table,’ said Kilpatrick. ‘I suppose I have to thank you, sir,’ he continued to Desmond, ‘for her absence? You’re pretty spectacles, the pair of you,’ he went on, looking at the disordered dresses, flushed faces and untidy hair of the young couple. ‘You’ve been up to some mischief, I suppose?’
‘Not this time,’ said Desmond, smiling. ‘Hold your tongue, boy!’ snapped his lordship, with sudden and inexplicable ill-temper. ‘Don’t bandy words with me—hold your tongue!’
‘Yes, sir,’ said Desmond.
‘Can’t you find something better to do than to go wandering about the place, mixing with all the loafers and blackguards in the county? Can’t you speak? You can chatter fast enough when you’re not asked to.’