"I am glad of it!" said Preston, savagely. "Why shouldn't he be wounded, when his betters are? Is he badly off?"
I simply could not answer at the minute.
"How's he wounded?"
"I do not know."
"You don't know! when you were attending to him. Then he hasn't lost a leg or an arm, I suppose? You would know that."
"No."
"D-n him!" said Preston. "That he should be whole and sound and only half of me left!"
I was dumb, for want of the power to speak. I think such a passion of indignation and displeasure never found place in my heart, before or since. But I did not wish to say anything angrily, and yet my heart was full of violent feeling that could find but violent words. I fed Preston in silence till his dinner was done, and left him. Then as I passed near him again soon after, I stopped.
"You are so far from sound, Preston," I said, "that I shall keep out of the way of your words. You must excuse me - but I cannot hear or allow them; and as you have no control over yourself, my only resource is to keep at a distance."
I waited for no answer but moved away; and busied myself with all the ward rather than him. It was a hard, hard, afternoon's work; my heart divided between the temptation to violent anger and violent tears. I kept away from Mr. Thorold too, partly from policy, and partly because I could not command myself, I was afraid, in his presence. But towards evening I found myself by his side, and in the dusk our hands met; while I used a fan with the other hand, by way of seeming to do something for him.