‘That’s better,’ said Dulcie, nestling nearer yet. ‘That’s more like the old Desmond. But a boy of taste would look a little higher. The mouth’s prettier, and more “convanient,” as you’d call it. Ah!’ she continued, with a sudden gush of tenderness, ‘don’t think me too bold! don’t think me an outrageous little flirt! It wasn’t till I felt your trouble that I knew my own heart, and learned that I loved you so much.’ She broke into a sudden sob. ‘Tell me you’re not miserable any more!’
‘Miserable!’ cried Desmond, almost sobbing too; ‘I’m the most miserable and the happiest man in Ireland. But, oh, Dulcie, darling, I’ve sworn——’
‘But you mustn’t!’ said Dulcie, laying her fingers on his lips. ‘My sweetheart mustn’t swear.’
‘I mean, Dulcie, that while this shadow is over me I can never hold my head up again. I must leave this place. I’ve neither land nor title, father nor mother——’
‘I don’t want your land or your title,’ interrupted Dulcie, ‘nor your father and mother. I want you, and I’ve got you, and I shall keep you. Try to get away if you dare! You can’t!’
A sound behind them made them both start, and, turning quickly, Desmond beheld Peebles standing in the doorway. He turned away to brush the tears from his eyes, but Dulcie hailed the intruder with delight.
‘Come in, Mr. Peebles,’ she cried, ‘and talk to this stubborn boy. He won’t listen to me a bit.’
‘Is that so?’ said Peebles dryly, scratching at the scrap of gray whisker which decorated his cheek. ‘I thought jest noo he seemed very attentive to your discourse! Desmond, laddie,’ he continued, ‘my lord has sent me after you. Noo, noo, ye’ll just hear me deliver my message. He’s oot of his mind, almost, clean daft, and neither pancreatic emulsion nor leever pills will hae much power to help him through in this trouble, I’m thinking.’
‘Tell Lord Kilpatrick from me,’ said Desmond, when he could trust his voice, ‘that I’ve nothing more to say to him.’
‘Hoot, lad!’ said Peebles. ‘Blood’s thicker than water. Ye can’t shake off the ties of relationship in that fashion, and cast awa’ your father like an old glove. For, after all, ye ken, he is your father.’