“He tried to sell her again?” I cried, my breath catching. “I have feared as much since I heard of their misfortunes.”
“Yes,” replied Comyn, “that was the first of it. 'Twas while they were still in Arlington Street, and before Mrs. Manners and Dorothy knew. Mr. Marmaduke goes posting off to Nottinghamshire, and comes back inside the duke's own carriage. And his Grace goes to dine in Arlington Street for the first time in years. Dorothy had wind of the trouble then, Charles having warned her. And not a word would she speak to Chartersea the whole of the dinner, nor look to the right or left of her plate. And when the servants are gone, up gets my lady with a sweep and confronts him.
“'Will your Grace spare me a minute in the drawing-room?' says she.
“He blinked at her in vast astonishment, and pushed back his chair. When she was come to the door, she turns with another sweep on Mr. Marmaduke, who was trotting after.
“'You will please to remain here, father,' she said; 'what I am to say is for his Grace's ear alone.'
“Of what she spoke to the duke I can form only an estimate, Richard,” my Lord concluded, “but I'll lay a fortune 'twas greatly to the point. For in a little while Chartersea comes stumbling down the steps. And he has never darkened the door since. And the cream of it is,” said Comyn, “that her father gave me this himself, with a face a foot long, for me to sympathize. The little beast has strange bursts of confidence.”
“And stranger confidants,” I ejaculated, thinking of the morning, and of Courtenay's letter, long ago.
But the story had made my blood leap again with pride of her. The picture in my mind had followed his every sentence, and even the very words she must have used were ringing in my ears.
Then, as we sat talking in low tones, the door opened, and a hearty voice cried out:
“Now where is this rebel, this traitor? They tell me one lies hid in this house. 'Slife, I must have at him!”