'Yes; and I conjecture you know whom I mean,' said Aunt Rebecca.
'Who--pray, Madam?' he demanded.
'Why, Lieutenant Puddock,' said Aunt Becky, again adjusting the china on
the chimneypiece.
'Eh?--truly?--that did not strike me,' replied Dangerfield.
He had a disconcerting way of saying the most ordinary things, and there
was a sort of latent meaning, like a half-heard echo, underrunning the
surface of his talk, which sometimes made people undefinably
uncomfortable; and Aunt Becky looked a little stately and flushed; but
in a minute more the conversation proceeded.
'I have many regrets, Miss Chattesworth, in leaving this place. The loss
of your society--don't mistake me, I never flatter--is a chief one. Some
of your views and plans interested me much. I shall see my Lord
Castlemallard sooner than I should had my wishes prospered; and I will
do all in my power to engage him to give the site for the building, and
stones from the quarry free; and I hope, though no longer a resident
here, you will permit me to contribute fifty pounds towards the
undertaking.'
'Sir, I wish there were more gentlemen of your public spirit and
Christian benevolence,' cried Aunt Becky, very cordially; 'and I have
heard of all your goodness to that unhappy family of Doctor
Sturk's--poor wretched man!'
'A bagatelle, Madam,' said Dangerfield, shaking his head and waving his
hand slightly; 'but I hope to do them, or at least the public, a service
of some importance, by bringing conviction home to the assassin who
struck him down, and that in terms so clear and authentic, as will leave
no room for doubt in the minds of any; and to this end I'm resolved to
stick at no trifling sacrifice, and, rather than fail, I'll drain my
purse.
Pages:
718
719
720
721
722
723
724
725
726
727
728
729
730
731
732
733
734
735
736
737
738
739
740
741
742