“Yes. Except that I wish you well. I shall always wish you well, Mr. Clode,” she muttered.
“Thank you,” he answered coldly.
So coldly, and with so much composure, that she did not guess the gust of hatred of all things and all men which was in his heart. He was beside himself with love, rage, disappointment. For a moment longer he stood gazing at her downcast face. But she did not look up at him; and presently, in a strange silence, he turned and went out of the room.
CHAPTER XXV.
HUMBLE PIE.
The success of reticence is great. Mr. Bonamy and his nephew, as they went home to tea after their victory, plumed themselves not a little upon the proof of this which they had just given Mr. Clode. They said little, it is true; even to one another, but more than once Mr. Bonamy chuckled in a particularly dry manner, and at the top of the street Jack made an observation “You think the archdeacon was satisfied?” he asked, turning to his companion for a moment.
“Absolutely,” quoth Mr. Bonamy; and he strode on with one hand in his pocket, his coat-tails flying, and his money jingling in a manner inimitable by any other Claversham person.
At tea they were both silent upon the subject, but the lawyer presently let drop the fact that the earl had accepted the rector’s resignation. Jack, watchfully jealous, poor fellow, yet in his jealousy loyal to the core, glanced involuntarily at Kate to see what effect the news produced upon her; and then glanced swiftly away again. Not so swiftly, however, that the change in the girl’s face escaped him. He saw it flush with mingled pride and alarm, and then grow grave and thoughtful. After that she kept her eyes averted from him, and he talked busily to Daintry. “I must be leaving you to-morrow,” he said by-and-by, as they rose from the table.
“You will be coming back again?” Mr. Bonamy answered, interrupting a loud wail from Daintry. It should be explained that Jack had not stayed through the whole of these weeks at Claversham, but had twice left for some days on circuit business. Mr. Bonamy thought he was meditating another of these disappearances.
“I should like to do so,” Jack answered quietly, “but I must get back to London now.”
“Well, your room will be ready for you whenever you like to come to us,” Mr. Bonamy replied with crabbed graciousness. And he fully meant what he said. He had grown used to Jack’s company. He saw, too, the change his presence had made in the girls’ lives, and possibly he entertained some thoughts of a greater change which the cousin might make in the life of one of them.