Mistress Wilding | Page 9

began to think that hitherto perhaps she had done him some
injustice - and a look of greater admiration from Diana, who saw in him
her beau-ideal of the gallant lover.
"I would not have you endanger yourself so," said Ruth.
"It might," said Blake, his blue eyes very fierce, "be no great danger,
after all." And then dismissing that part of the subject as if, like a brave
man, the notion of being thought boastful were unpleasant, he passed
on to the discussion of ways and means by which the coming duel
might be averted. But when they came to grips with facts, it seemed
that Sir Rowland had as little idea of what might be done as had the
ladies. True, he began by making the obvious suggestion that Richard
should tender Wilding a full apology. That, indeed, was the only door
of escape, and Blake shrewdly suspected that what the boy had been
unwilling to do last night - partly through wine, and partly through the
fear of looking fearful in the eyes of Lord Gervase Scoresby's guests -
he might be willing enough to do to-day, sober and upon reflection. For
the rest Blake was as far from suspecting Mr. Wilding's peculiar frame
of mind as had Richard been last night. This his words showed.
"I am satisfied," said he, "that if Richard were to go to-day to Wilding
and express his regret for a thing done in the heat of wine, Wilding
would be forced to accept it as satisfaction, and none would think that it
did other than reflect credit upon Richard."
"Are you very sure of that?" asked Ruth, her tone dubious, her glance

hopefully anxious.
"What else is to be thought?"
"But," put in Diana shrewdly, "it were an admission of Richard's that he
had done wrong."
"No less," he agreed, and Ruth caught her breath in fresh dismay.
"And yet you have said that he did as you would have a son of yours
do," Diana reminded him.
"And I maintain it," answered Blake; his wits worked slowly ever. It
was for Ruth to reveal the flaw to him.
"Do you not understand, then," she asked him sadly, "that such an
admission on Richard's part would amount to a lie - a lie uttered to save
himself from an encounter, the worst form of lie, a lie of cowardice?
Surely, Sir Rowland, your kindly anxiety for his life outruns your
anxiety for his honour."
Diana, having accomplished her task, hung her head in silence,
pondering.
Sir Rowland was routed utterly. He glanced from one to the other of his
companions, and grew afraid that he - the town gallant - might come to
look foolish in the eyes of these country ladies. He protested again his
love for Richard, and increased Ruth's terror by his mention of
Wilding's swordsmanship; but when all was said, he saw that he had
best retreat ere he spoiled the good effect which he hoped his solicitude
had created. And so he spoke of seeking counsel with Lord Gervase
Scoresby, and took his leave, promising to return by noon.
CHAPTER III
DIANA SCHEMES
Notwithstanding the brave face Ruth Westmacott had kept during his

presence, when he departed Sir Rowland left behind him a distress
amounting almost to anguish in her mind. Yet though she might suffer,
there was no weakness in Ruth's nature. She knew how to endure.
Diana, bearing Richard not a tenth of the affection his sister
consecrated to him, was alarmed for him. Besides, her own interests
urged the averting of this encounter. And so she held in accents almost
tearful that something must be done to save him.
This, too, appeared to be Richard's own view, when presently - within a
few minutes of Blake's departure - he came to join them. They watched
his approach in silence, and both noted - though with different eyes and
different feelings - the pallor of his fair face, the dark lines under his
colourless eyes. His condition was abject, and his manners, never of the
best - for there was much of the spoiled child about Richard - were
clearly suffering from it.
He stood before his sister and his cousin, moving his eyes shiftily from
one to the other, rubbing his hands nervously together.
"Your precious friend Sir Rowland has been here," said he, and it was
not clear from his manner which of them he addressed. "Not a doubt
but he will have brought you the news." He seemed to sneer.
Ruth advanced towards him, her face grave, her sweet eyes full of
pitying concern. She placed a hand upon his sleeve. "My poor
Richard.. ." she began, but he shook off her kindly touch, laughing
angrily - a mere cackle of irritability.
"Odso!"