'Old brute!' thought Val, flushing deeper; 'you're not paid to make
jokes!'
"'You will not get the chance to insult me again in my own house. I am
leaving the country to-morrow. It's played out'--an expression, your
Ludship, not unknown in the mouths of those who have not met with
conspicuous success."
'Sniggering owls!' thought Val, and his flush deepened.
"'I am tired of being insulted by you.' My client will tell your
Ludship that these so-called insults consisted in her calling him
'the limit',--a very mild expression, I venture to suggest, in all the
circumstances."
Val glanced sideways at his mother's impassive face, it had a hunted
look in the eyes. 'Poor mother,' he thought, and touched her arm with
his own. The voice behind droned on.
"'I am going to live a new life. M. D.'"
"And next day, me Lud, the respondent left by the steamship Tuscarora
for Buenos Aires. Since then we have nothing from him but a cabled
refusal in answer to the letter which my client wrote the following day
in great distress, begging him to return to her. With your Ludship's
permission. I shall now put Mrs. Dartie in the box."
When his mother rose, Val had a tremendous impulse to rise too and say:
'Look here! I'm going to see you jolly well treat her decently.' He
subdued it, however; heard her saying, 'the truth, the whole truth, and
nothing but the truth,' and looked up. She made a rich figure of it, in
her furs and large hat, with a slight flush on her cheek-bones, calm,
matter-of-fact; and he felt proud of her thus confronting all these
'confounded lawyers.' The examination began. Knowing that this was
only the preliminary to divorce, Val followed with a certain glee the
questions framed so as to give the impression that she really wanted
his father back. It seemed to him that they were 'foxing Old Bagwigs
finely.'
And he received a most unpleasant jar when the Judge said suddenly:
"Now, why did your husband leave you--not because you called him 'the
limit,' you know?"
Val saw his uncle lift his eyes to the witness box, without moving his
face; heard a shuffle of papers behind him; and instinct told him that
the issue was in peril. Had Uncle Soames and the old buffer behind made
a mess of it? His mother was speaking with a slight drawl.
"No, my Lord, but it had gone on a long time."
"What had gone on?"
"Our differences about money."
"But you supplied the money. Do you suggest that he left you to better
his position?"