‘Poor Lucy.’

’She is in such distress, that I could not bear to look at her, but he will not attend to her, nor to his uncle and aunt.  Mrs. Dusautoy proposed that they should come to the vicarage, where there would be no danger of collisions with Maurice; but his mind can admit no idea but that he has been insulted, and that we encourage it, and he thinks his dignity concerned in resenting it.’

’Not much dignity in being driven off the field by a child of six years old.’

’So his aunt told him, but he mixes it up with O’More, and insists on my complaining to Mr. Goldsmith, and getting the lad dismissed for a libellous caricaturist, as he calls it.  Now, little as I should have expected such conduct from O’More, it could not be made a ground of complaint to his uncle.’

’I should think not.  No one with more wit than Algernon would have dreamt of it!  But if Ulick came and apologized?  Ah! but I forgot!  Mr. Goldsmith sent him to London this morning.  Well, it may be better that he should be out of the way of Algernon in his present mood.’

‘Humph!’ said Mr. Kendal.  ’It is the first time I ever allowed a stranger to be intimate in my family, and it shall be the last.  I never imagined him aware of the circumstance.’

‘Nor I; I am sure none of us mentioned it.’

’Maurice told him, I suppose.  It is well that we should be aware who has instigated the child’s impertinence.  I shall keep him as much as possible with me; he must be cured of Irish brogue and Irish coolness before they are confirmed.’

Mr. Kendal’s conscience was evidently relieved by transferring to the Irishman the imputation of fostering Maurice’s malpractices.

They were interrupted by Lucy’s arrival.  She was come to take leave of home, for her lord was not to be dissuaded from going to London by the evening’s train.  The greater the consternation, the sweeter his revenge.  Never able to see more than one side of a question, he could not perceive how impossible it was for the Kendals to fulfil his condition with regard to Ulick O’More, and he sullenly adhered to his obstinate determination.  Lucy was in an agony of grief, and perhaps the most painful blow was the perception how little he was swayed by consideration for her.  Her maid packed, while her parents tried to console her.  It was easier when she bewailed the terrors of the voyage, and the uncertainty of hearing of dear grandmamma and dear Gilbert, than when she sobbed about Algernon having no feeling for her.  It might be only too true, but her wifely submission ought not to have acknowledged it, and they would not hear when they could not comfort; and so they were forced to launch her on the world, with a tyrant instead of a guide, and dreading the effect of dissipation on her levity of mind, as much as they grieved for her feeble spirit.  It was a piteous parting—­a mournful departure for a bride—­a heavy penalty for vanity and weakness.