"Perhaps it is as well you have decided to have your breakfast in another quarter. Somehow you have the knack of bruising me most savagely, and no doubt we should be at each other's throat like a couple of dogs, ere we finished. I wish to tell you distinctly that if you imagine you can frighten me off by such heroics you are chasing a mirage, a fata morgana as the deep sea sailors term it. I am not that kind of a man, and you will find that I sink or swim by my record."
Roderic did not care to bandy further words with the Adonis.
Deeds must tell the story as to which of them should win in the long run, and Owen preferred such a course.
It chanced that M'lle Cleo and her companion entered the room about this time, and joining them Roderic had his chop in merry company.
The daughter of ten millions looked fresh and full of life. As he chatted with her across the table Owen was wondering why she had never mated.
"It's the confounded dazzle of her money," he decided finally; "she has educated herself to believe no one can ever love her, but that the fortune draws them. By Jove! She should hide herself under an incog. and thus discover a lover who will worship her for her own dear self. I warrant there are many good fellows who would gladly go through fire and flood for her sake, if they knew her only as a stenographer or schoolmam."
Which line of reasoning did Roderic credit.
That same fortune had something to do with his own feelings in the matter, as it must with every honorable man.
"When do you leave Dublin?" asked his cousin, endeavoring to appear careless.