When I ask what may have happened to
account for this--'Nothing, dear,' is all the answer I get. What's the
impression naturally produced on my mind? There has been a quarrel
perhaps between you and my wife."
"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.
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