Sawn Off: A Tale of a Family Tree. Fenn George Manville

obnoxious people, he has gone there again and again, encouraged by the adventurer of a father.”

      “I am very sorry, dear.”

      “Sorry? What good does that do? And he’s there now.”

      “No, my dear,” said Lady Pinemount; “he is just coming across the park.”

      “Ah! is he?” cried Lord Pinemount, leaping up and running to the window. “Here, – hi! Denis! Come here!”

      The young man came calmly enough up to the window.

      “Ah, mamma!” he said. “You want me, sir?”

      “Yes. Where the devil have you been?”

      “Over to Sandleighs, sir. And have the goodness to remember, in addressing me, that I am not one of the grooms.”

      “Denis!”

      “All right, mamma. I am not a child now, and if his lordship addresses me in that tone I shall resent it.”

      “Ah, indeed!” said the father sarcastically. “May I respectfully inquire, then, why you have been over to Sandleighs?”

      “To apologise to Doctor Salado for causing him so much annoyance.”

      “Say Don Salado, my dear son,” cried his lordship: “and may I ask how you have annoyed him? By making eyes at the adventurer’s daughter – bah! wench!”

      The young man’s eyes flashed, but he spoke quite calmly.

      “I apologised for causing him to be suspected of destroying that hoarding which I cut down and burned.”

      “Yes, I know you did, sir.”

      “I am not surprised, father. I thought one of your spies would be watching me.”

      “Oh, Denis, Denis!” cried Lady Pinemount appealingly. “Right, mother dear. I’ll speak and act quite calmly; but I will not be treated as a schoolboy.”

      “Then you have apologised to Doctor Salado, the Spanish-American adventurer, and you are going to espouse his daughter, I presume?”

      “Yes, father. I love her very dearly, and – ”

      “That will do, thank you,” said his lordship quietly, though he was pale with suppressed fury. “I have no time to listen to silly sentiment. Good morning: there is the door.”

      Lady Pinemount ran to her son’s side.

      “Don’t quarrel, Denis, for my sake,” she whispered; and he pressed her hand.

      “Did you hear me, Mr Rolleston? Have the goodness to go. Of course you will get the title when I die, and the estate. But not a penny do you have from me beside; and the estate will nearly ruin you, without money to keep it up. You say you are a man: act like one, and go.”

      “You wish me to leave your house finally, sir?”

      “Wish? I order you to go; and until you come over humbly and ask leave to pay your addresses to the Lady Jenny, never darken my doors again.”

      “Very well, sir. I will see you again, mother, before I go.”

      “Denis! Husband, pray, pray do not let this trouble come upon us.”

      “Mr Rolleston, being angry makes me ill. I wish to behave politely and calmly to you. Please to go.”

      Denis caught his mother to his breast, and then hurried out of the room, to go and order the valet to pack up his portmanteau and send it across to the station; and then he went off across the park, to see the Salados and say good-bye.

      Volume One – Chapter Seven.

      Good-Bye

      “Back again so soon, Mr Rolleston?” said the Doctor, as Denis presented himself before the father and daughter; Veronica having risen from her seat and laid her hand upon her father’s shoulder, reading at once in their visitor’s eyes that something serious was the cause of his visit.

      “Yes, sir: I have come to say good-bye to you both.”

      “For good?” said the Doctor, taking his child’s hand and pressing it warmly.

      “I hope for good,” said Denis, smiling encouragingly at Veronica. “I am going abroad.”

      “What for?”

      “The same reason that others go for, sir. To make my fortune.”

      “You! I thought you were Lord Pinemount’s heir.”

      “So I am, sir; but my father may live twenty or thirty years, – I hope he may, – and I have nothing now except what I earn.”

      “Humph! then you have come to an open rupture with him?”

      “No, sir; he has come to an open rupture with me.”

      “Because you come here?”

      “Because I refuse to obey him and make matrimonial overtures to a lady I dislike.”

      “Overture to a very bad opera, eh?”

      “I could not do it, sir. It would be base, contemptible, and – There – you know.”

      “Humph! Then you have beggared yourself because you think you care for Veronica?”

      “No, sir; I am ordered away till I go and beg pardon and promise to marry as my father orders; so there is a breach that will never be healed.”

      “Better go and heal it. This is all very fresh. Very will soon forget you, and you’ll forget her.”

      “Doctor Salado!”

      “Well, I know the world, sir. Sad thing for a young man like you to sacrifice his prospects.”

      “I don’t agree with you, sir. It is the best thing that could have happened, and will make a man of me. I shall go to Canada or Vancouver, I think; and in justice to Miss Salado I have come to say that I bind her by no promise, – I only trust in her faith. Some day I shall return to ask her to be my wife. Till then – ”

      He could not finish, but stood with his lips compressed.

      “Humph! Well, I think you are quite right, sir. Come, Very, be a woman. How much capital have you to take with you?”

      “None, sir.”

      “Then you’ll want some five hundred or a thousand. I have the latter amount, and no particular use for it. I’ll lend it to you at five per cent.”

      “Thank you, sir,” said Denis warmly, “but I must decline. I’ll go and fight the battle for myself, and prove to my father that I am not the weak boy he thinks.”

      “Quite right. Go and fight the battle for yourself.”

      “Papa!” whispered Veronica, with a look of agony in her eyes.

      “Yes, my dear; it’s the best thing he can do. You both feel a bit sore, but you will soon forget the trouble. Good-bye, Denis Rolleston. You’re more of a man than I thought you. Write to me now and then, and let me hear how you are getting on. We shall both be very pleased to hear of your welfare. It’s a pity your father is so severe; but there – all fathers are. I am. Good-bye, my lad. I’d select a good ship, and I wouldn’t go steerage.”

      “Why not?” said Denis, through his set teeth. “Better begin at the bottom, sir.”

      “Well, yes, my lad, perhaps you had. Now, Very, my dear, say good-bye to him like a woman, and wish him well. Some day in the future you two will meet at dinner and laugh at this rosy-posy boy-and-girl love business. And by the way, Rolleston, my lad, keep your eyes open, and send me any little natural history specimen you find.”

      “Good-bye, Veronica,” said Denis, who did not seem to hear the Doctor’s words.

      “Good-bye,” she said, giving him a wistful look; and her voice was almost inaudible, while her eyes looked dull and her cheeks ashy pale.

      He took her cold limp hand, held it for a few moments in his,