Frightened by his violence, she uttered a cry, rushed back, and flung herself into Chetwynd's arms, who was coming forward to assist her.
As may be imagined, this occurrence inflamed the jealous lover to the highest pitch, and Tom Tankard had some difficulty in holding him back.
“Let me go!” cried Netterville, struggling with his friend. “My worst suspicions are now confirmed, Let me go, I say! I'll punish him!”
“No you sha'n't,” cried Tom, who could scarcely refrain from laughing at the absurdity of the scene. “You've committed folly enough already. Come along.”
And he dragged him out of the house.
“I didn't believe Harry could behave in such an extraordinary manner,” said Rose, as soon as he was gone. “He terrified me so much that I scarcely knew what I was about. I hope you'll excuse me, sir.”
“There's nothing to excuse,” replied Chetwynd; “but you must judge your lover as leniently as you can. His violence only proves the strength of his affection for you.”
“I would rather he didn't show his affection in this way,” she rejoined.
“Certainly he allowed his passion to carry him a great deal too far,” said Chetwynd. “But he will be very sorry to-morrow.”
“When he comes here again, he will find me gone; and I sha'n't write to him,” said Rose.