He turned round petulantly, almost with the air of a spoiled
child, to his mother, as he said those words. She had been
looking fondly and proudly on him the moment before. Now her eyes
wandered disconcertedly from his face; she hesitated an instant
with a sudden confusion which seemed quite foreign to her
character, then whispered in his ear,
"Am I to blame, Charles, for trying to make her worthy of you?"
Her son took no notice of the question. He only reiterated
sharply, "Let Rose speak."
"I really had nothing to say," faltered the young girl, growing
more and more confused.
"Oh, but you had!"
There was such an ungracious sharpness in his voice, such an
outburst of petulance in his manner as he spoke, that his mother
gave him a warning touch on the arm, and whispered "Hush!"
Monsieur Lomaque, the land-steward, and Monsieur Trudaine, the
brother, both glanced searchingly at the bride, as the words
passed the bridegroom's lips. She seemed to be frightened and
astonished, rather than irritated or hurt. A curious smile
puckered up Lomaque's lean face, as he looked demurely down on
the ground, and began drilling a fresh hole in the turf with the
sharp point of his cane. Trudaine turned aside quickly, and,
sighing, walked away a few paces; then came back, and seemed
about to speak, but Danville interrupted him.
"Pardon me, Rose," he said; "I am so jealous of even the
appearance of any want of attention toward you, that I was nearly
allowing myself to be irritated about nothing.
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