Not having done what he intended to do, Scarfe felt decidedly virtuous, and considered himself entitled to any amount of credit for his forbearance! It seemed a pity Raby should not know of this noble effort of self-denial.
“Miss Atherton,” said he, just as they were about to separate for the night, “I’m afraid you will have forgotten all about me when you see me next.”
“You are very uncomplimentary, Mr Scarfe.”
“I do not mean to be; and I’m sure I shall not forget you.”
“Thank you. This has been a very eventful visit.”
“It has; but I shall never regret that day on the ice, although I fear I made one enemy by what I did.”
“You don’t understand Mr Jeffreys; he is very shy and proud.”
“I understand him quite well, and wish for Percy’s sake every one here did too. But I am not going to disobey you, and talk of people behind their backs, Miss Atherton. I am sure you will approve of that.”
“I do; I never like it unless it is something nice of them.”
“Then I certainly had better not talk to you about Mr Jeffreys,” said Scarfe with a sneer, which did him more damage in Raby’s eyes than a torrent of abuse from his lips. “Do you know you have never yet shown me the telegram you had about your father’s last battle? It came the morning I was away, you know.”