Clarkson’s face was growing darker every moment.  He held the bridle more firmly, and began to speak again.

Doctor Morton suddenly raised his riding-whip, and let the handle fall sharply on the hand that detained him; at the same moment he spurred his horse, and the animal, springing forward, struck Clarkson with its shoulder and sent him staggering back across the road.  He recovered himself in a moment, and darted forward with an oath, but it was too late—­horse and rider were already far beyond his reach.

Doctor Morton went straight to Mr. Bellairs’ office.  He felt it needful to get rid, in some way, of his new irritation against Clarkson, but some consciousness of being for the moment urged on by personal dislike, made him say nothing of their encounter.  He merely satisfied himself that his brother-in-law, considerably piqued by the implied blame which had been thrown upon his guardianship, was now doing all that was possible to satisfy his eagerness.

After all these affairs it was late when he reached home.  He and Bella were going to dine out, and she was waiting impatiently for him when he finished his day’s work and went in to dress.  He had no time to talk to her then, and kept what he had to say for their drive; but as they drove along, it occurred to him that if he told her of his meeting with Clarkson she would worry herself, and perhaps him also, so he finally kept it to himself altogether, and as his ill-humour subsided it passed out of his mind.

  END OF VOL.  I.

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