G.W."
On which his mother's voice broke, and she wept.
"Lord, what a fop!" said Sir John. My lady swelled in her draperies. "So
he's gone to the war, has he? Odso, I didn't think he had it in him."
"Sir, if you jeer at my bereavement!" my lady sobbed.
"And where's Harry Boyce?" says Mr. Hadley.
Sir John stared at him. "Why, seeking honour too, ain't he? What's in
your head, Charles?"
"This is rude," my lady sobbed; "this is brutal. The tutor! Oh, heaven,
what is the tutor to me? I would to God I had never seen him--him nor his
wicked father."
Sir John tugged at Mr. Hadley's empty sleeve and drew him aside. "What
are you pointing at, Charles? D'ye mean the two rogues have took Geoffrey
off to make away with him between 'em?"
"Lord, sir, you've a villainous imagination." Mr. Hadley grinned. "I mean
no such matter. Nay, I'll lay a guinea, Harry Boyce is not gone at all."
"Sir John"--my lady raised herself and was shrill--"what are you
whispering there?"
"What, what? You mean the old fellow took Geoffrey off to leave the young
fellow a clear field with Ally Lambourne? Odso, that's devilish deep,
ain't it? But we can set the young fellow packing, my lad. We--"
"Sir John!" my lady's voice rose higher yet.
"Coming, ma'am, coming. Od burn my heart and soul!" That last invocation
was not directed at her but an invading tumult.
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