Larry's
voice shouted:
"Christian! Cousin Isabel! Anyone--!"
There was urgency and alarm in the voice.
Lady Isabel and Christian were in the hall in an instant, and met
Larry at the foot of the stairs.
"Cousin Dick's ill! A heart attack, I think--I didn't know what to do
for him--"
"I do!" said Christian, speeding upstairs.
Her mother followed her, and Larry remained in the hall. Of one thing
he was quite certain, that he had better keep out of Cousin Dick's
sight. His nerves were quivering from the interview that had been so
shatteringly abbreviated. Had the friendly old setter, whose head at
this moment was on his knee, while her limpid eyes swore to him that
all her love was his, suddenly turned and rent him, it would scarcely
be a shock worse than that he had received. He had been undeterred by
the ominous gloom of the Major's greeting; few young men have very
keen perception of mood, and Larry, deeply self-engrossed, wildly
happy, had flung at once into his theme, which, it need hardly be
said, was Christian. Then the storm broke, and the lightning blazed,
and the thunders of the house uttered their voice, while Larry,
amazed, horrified, gradually, as the invective gathered volume and
venom, becoming angry, stood in silence, and received in a single
cloud-burst the bitter flood of long-pent prejudice, jealousy, and
sense of injury.
Pages:
309
310
311
312
313
314
315
316
317
318
319
320
321
322
323
324
325
326
327
328
329
330
331
332
333