"I fail entirely, Lord Harry, to see it in that light."
"Ah, likely enough! Mine's the Irish point of view. As an Englishman
you fail to understand it. Let that be. One thing; Mr. Mountjoy, I'll
take the freedom of saying at once. I'll thank you, next time, to
quarrel with Me."
"You force me to tell you, my lord, that you are under a complete
delusion, if you suppose that there has been any quarrel, or approach
to a quarrel, between Lady Harry and myself."
"You tell me that, on your word of honour as a gentleman?"
"Most assuredly!"
"Sir! I deeply regret to hear it."
"Which does your lordship deeply regret? That I have spoken to you on
my word of honour, or that I have not quarrelled with Lady Harry?"
"Both, sir! By the piper that played before Moses, both!"
Hugh got up, and took his hat: "We may have a better chance of
understanding each other," he suggested, "if you will be so good as to
write to me."
"Put your hat down again, Mr. Mountjoy, and pray have a moment's
patience. I've tried to like you, sir--and I'm bound in candour to own
that I've failed to find a bond of union between us. Maybe, this frank
confession annoys you."
"Far from it! You are going straight to your subject at last, if I may
venture to say so."
The Irish lord's good-humour had completely disappeared by this time.
His handsome face hardened, and his voice rose. The outbreak of jealous
feeling, which motives honourable to himself had hitherto controlled,
now seized on its freedom of expression. His language betrayed (as on
some former occasions) that association with unworthy companions, which
had been one of the evil results of his adventurous life.
"Maybe I'll go straighter than you bargain for," he replied; "I'm in
two humours about you. My common-sense tells me that you're my wife's
friend. And the best of friends do sometimes quarrel, don't they? Well,
sir, you deny it, on your own account. I find myself forced back on my
other humour--and it's a black humour, I can tell you. You may be my
wife's friend, my fine fellow, but you're something more than that. You
have always been in love with her--and you're in love with her now.
Thank you for your visit, but don't repeat it. Say! do we understand
each other at last?"
"I have too sincere a respect for Lady Harry to answer you," Mountjoy
said. "At the same time, let me acknowledge my obligations to your
lordship. You have reminded me that I did a foolish thing when I called
here without an invitation. I agree with you that the sooner my mistake
is set right the better."