I walked to the window to compose myself. The rain had given over;
and, who should I see in the court-yard, but Mr. Begbie, the gardener,
waiting outside to continue the dog-rose controversy with Sergeant Cuff.
"My compliments to the Sairgent," said Mr. Begbie, the moment he set
eyes on me. "If he's minded to walk to the station, I'm agreeable to go
with him."
"What!" cries the Sergeant, behind me, "are you not convinced yet?"
"The de'il a bit I'm convinced!" answered Mr. Begbie.
"Then I'll walk to the station!" says the Sergeant.
"Then I'll meet you at the gate!" says Mr. Begbie.
I was angry enough, as you know--but how was any man's anger to hold out
against such an interruption as this? Sergeant Cuff noticed the change
in me, and encouraged it by a word in season. "Come! come!" he said,
"why not treat my view of the case as her ladyship treats it? Why not
say, the circumstances have fatally misled me?"
To take anything as her ladyship took it was a privilege worth
enjoying--even with the disadvantage of its having been offered to me
by Sergeant Cuff. I cooled slowly down to my customary level. I regarded
any other opinion of Miss Rachel, than my lady's opinion or mine, with
a lofty contempt.
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