"I beg your pardon, sir," said Kimberley ruffled. "I did myself the honour to address you."
"You pestilential little cad!" cried Jack, wheeling round and letting out his wrath; "go home!"
"Cad, sir!" answered Kimberley in indignation.
"I call any man a cad, sir," answered Jack, "who goes about dressed like that."
Jack walked on and Kimberley stood rooted to the ground. He was crushed and overwhelmed beneath the sense of his own humiliation. His fineries had been the one thing on which he had relied to make himself look like a gentleman, and he knew now what they made him look like.
He retreated to a little arboured seat, and a few minutes later would have given anything to escape from it. For he was a witness of the parting of Jack and Ella. He saw the tears streaming from her eyes; he heard Jack tell her that he had never loved another woman and never would. As they clasped each other's hands for the final good-bye, Jack seized her passionately and kissed her. Her head fell back from his shoulder; she had fainted. He laid her down upon the grass, and looked upon her in an agony of fear and self-reproach. Then his mood changed.
"Curse the man that broke her heart and mine!" he cried wildly. "Darling, look up!"
Presently she recovered, and he begged her forgiveness.
"I am better," said Ella feebly. "Leave me now. Good-bye, dear!"
Soon afterwards a little man, with a tear-stained face and enormous bull-dog scarf-pin, arrived at the castle, and asked in a breaking voice to see his lordship.