‘Because Falloden’s the last person in the world to look after anybody—least of all, you!’ said Sorell with indignant energy. ‘But of course it’s a joke! You mean it for a joke. If he proposed it, it was like his audacity. Nobody would, who had a shred of delicacy. I suppose he wants to disarm public opinion!’
Radowitz looked oddly at Sorell, from under his finely-marked eyebrows.
‘I don’t believe he cares a hang for public opinion,’ he said slowly. ‘Nor do I. If you could come, Alexis, of course that would settle it. And if you won’t come to see me, supposing Falloden and I do share diggings, that settles it too. But you will come, old man—you will come!’
And he nodded, smiling, at his quasi-guardian. Neither of them noticed Connie. Yet she had hung absorbed on their conversation, the breath fluttering on her parted lips. And when their talk paused she bent forward, and laid her hand on Sorell’s arm.
‘Let him!’ she said pleadingly—‘let him do it!’
Sorell looked at her in troubled perplexity. ‘Let Douglas Falloden make some amends to his victim; if he can and will. Don’t be so unkind as to prevent it!’ That, he supposed, was what she meant. It seemed to him the mere sentimental unreason of the young girl, who will not believe that there is any irrevocableness in things at all, till life teaches her.
Radowitz too! What folly, what mistaken religiosity could make him dream of consenting to such a housemate through this winter which might very well be his last!
Monstrous! What kind of qualities had Falloden to fit him for such a task? All very well, indeed, that he should feel remorse! Sorell hoped he might feel it a good deal more sharply yet. But that he should ease his remorse at Otto’s expense, by offering what he could never fulfil, and by taking the place of someone on whom Otto could have really leaned: that seemed to Sorell all of a piece with the man’s egotism, his epicurean impatience of anything that permanently made him uncomfortable or unhappy. He put something of this into impetuous words as well as he could. But Otto listened in silence. So did Constance. And Sorell presently felt that there was a secret bond between them.
Before the aunts returned, the rectory pony-carriage came for Radowitz, who was not strong enough to walk both ways. Sorell and Constance were left alone.