`Perhaps it would become you better,' said I, `to look at what you are, and say, "God be merciful to me a sinner."'
`You are severe,' returned he, bowing slightly and drawing himself up with a proud yet injured air. Hattersley laughed, and clapped him on the shoulder. Moving from under his hand with a gesture of insulted dignity, Mr. Hargrave took himself away to the other end of the rug.
`Isn't it a shame, Mrs. Huntingdon?' cried his brother-in-law-- `I struck Walter Hargrave when I was drunk, the second night after we came, and he's turned a cold shoulder on me ever since; though I asked his pardon the very morning after it was done!'
`Your manner of asking it,' returned the other, `and the clearness with which you remembered the whole transaction, showed you were not too drunk to be fully conscious of what you were about, and quite responsible for the deed.'
`You wanted to interfere between me and my wife,' grumbled Hattersley, `and that is enough to provoke any man.
`You justify it then?' said his opponent, darting upon him a most vindictive glance.
`No, I tell you I wouldn't have done it if I hadn't been under excitement; and if you choose to bear malice for it, after all the handsome things I've said--do so and be damned!'
`I would refrain from such language in a lady's presence, at least,' said Mr. Hargrave, hiding his anger under a mask of disgust.
`What have I said?' returned Hattersley. `Nothing but Heaven's truth--he will be damned, won't he, Mrs. Huntingdon, if he doesn't forgive his brother's trespasses?'
`You ought to forgive him, Mr. Hargrave, since he asks you,' said I.
`Do you say so? Then I will!' And, smiling almost frankly, he stepped forward and offered his hand. It was immediately clasped in that of his relative, and the reconciliation was apparently cordial on both sides.
`The affront,' continued Hargrave, turning to me, `owed half its bitterness to the fact of its being offered in your presence; and since you bid me forgive it, I will--and forget it too.'
`I guess the best return I can make, will be to take myself off,' muttered Hattersley, with a broad grin. His companion smiled; and he left the room. This put me on my guard. Mr. Hargrave turned seriously to me, and earnestly began--
`Dear Mrs. Huntingdon, how I have longed for, yet dreaded this hour! Do not be alarmed,' he added, for my face was crimson with anger; `I am not about to offend you with any useless entreaties or complaints. I am not going to presume to trouble you with the mention of my own feelings or your perfections, but I have something to reveal to you which you ought to know, and which, yet, it pains me inexpressibly--'
`Then don't trouble yourself to reveal it!'
`But it is of importance--
`If so, I shall hear it soon enough--specially if it is bad news, as you seem to consider it. At present, I am going to take the children to the nursery.
`But can't you ring, and send them?'