I hope--" he hesitated
momentarily--"I hope you will bear in mind the extreme difficulty of her
situation."
Sir Eustace passed over the low words. "And what is going to happen to
her--afterwards?" he said.
"Heaven knows!" Scott spoke as one compelled.
Sir Eustace continued to gaze straight before him. "Haven't you thought
of any solution to the difficulty?" he asked.
"What do you mean?" Scott's voice rang suddenly stern.
A faint smile touched his brother's face; it was like the shadow of his
old, supercilious sneer. "It occurred to me that you, being a chivalrous
knight, might be moved to offer her your protection," he explained
coolly. "You are quite at liberty to do so, so far as I am concerned. I
give you my free consent."
Scott started, as if he had been stung. "Man, don't sneer at me!" he said
in a voice that quivered. "I've a good many things against you, and I'm
damned if I can stand any more!"
There was desperation in his words. Sir Eustace's brows went up, and his
smile departed. But there came no answering anger in his eyes.
He was silent for several moments, pacing forward, his hand no longer
linked in Scott's arm. Then at last very quietly he spoke. "You're right.
You have a good many things against me. But this is not one of them. I
was not sneering at you."
There was a note of most unwonted sincerity in his voice that gave
conviction to his words.
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