'If the Shales are such contemptible wretches as to turn
you out just because they're offended with _me_, I should have thought
you'd have spirit enough to tell them what you think of such behaviour, and
be glad never more to serve such brutes! Father, what do _you_ say? I'll
tell you how it was.'
She narrated the events of the afternoon, amid sobs and ejaculations from
her mother and Betsy. Rockett, who was just now in anguish of lumbago,
tried to straighten himself in his chair before replying, but sank
helplessly together with a groan.
'You can't help yourself, May,' he said at length. 'It's your nature, my
girl. Don't worry. I'll see Sir Edwin, and perhaps he'll listen to me. It's
the women who make all the mischief. I must try to see Sir Edwin--'
A pang across the loins made him end abruptly, groaning, moaning,
muttering. Before the renewed attack of her mother May retreated into the
sitting-room, and there passed an hour wretchedly enough. A knock at the
door without words called her to supper, but she had no appetite, and would
not join the family circle. Presently the door opened, and her father
looked in.
'Don't worry, my girl,' he whispered. 'I'll see Sir Edwin in the morning.
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