“Well, be careful, then.” But Eveleen’s wrath, never very long-lived, was melting like snow at the sight of her boy’s penitence. “Listen, then, Brian”—in a burst of confidence,—“Ambrose is English. That’s what gives him the manner you think I’d dislike. But I don’t, because it’s his. I’ll tell you this now—it did take me by surprise at first, but now I’m accustomed to it I wouldn’t know him without it. Indeed—and this is more I wouldn’t have him different, because it wouldn’t be him, d’ye see?”
“So long as you can stand it—— I mean,” hastily, “as you like it—it’s no business of mine. I suppose I ought be thankful you take it this way, for what would I do if you didn’t? Call him out—eh? and you running in between to try and reconcile us at the last moment.”
“No, too late, and receiving the fire of both parties, and with my last breath joining your two hands, and vowing you to eternal friendship in memory of the hapless Eveleen! There’s tragedy for you! But talking of tragedy, what’s happened that poor Captain Stewart of yours? I declare he looked so crushed when he put his head in at the door I was afraid of something terrible.”
“Will I go and see? He takes these things to heart greatly. He had made up his mind to have a dinner worthy of you, and now he’s touched in his tenderest point.”
“Yes, do go. Bring him here to have a talk, and we’ll make him laugh till he forgets all about it.”
But when Brian returned he shook his head.
“No go, Evie! He’s holding his head and groaning, and vowing he’ll resign and go back to his regiment if Freddy Lennox don’t keep the General in better order than we can. His heart is broken entirely, I tell you.”
“The poor fellow! Will we go and dig him out, Brian?”
“I believe you’d do it! ’Twould shock him horribly—do him all the good in the world! We will. Come along—no, hist, we are observed! Here’s my old lad and your good man.”
“You are sure of the writing?” Sir Harry was demanding eagerly of Richard as they came towards the others.