Part 78 (1/2)
”Hah! Saw you were there. Horrible day. Well, good job it's all over.”
Leslie was silent, and stood watching the old man.
”Something upset you?” he said at last.
”Upset me? Do you think it's possible for me to go to my brother's without being upset?”
”No, no. It has been a terrible business for you all.”
”Wasn't talking about that,” snapped out Uncle Luke. ”That's dead and buried and forgotten.”
”No, sir; not forgotten.”
”I said, 'and forgotten.'”
Leslie bowed.
”Confound that woman!” continued Uncle Luke, after a pause. ”Talk about Huguenot martyrs, sir; my brother George and that girl have lived a life of martyrdom putting up with her.”
”She is old and eccentric.”
”She has no business to be old and eccentric. n.o.body has, sir; unless-- unless he shut himself up all alone as I do myself. I never worry any one; I only ask to be let alone. There, you needn't sneer.”
”I did not sneer, sir.”
”No, you didn't, Leslie. I beg pardon. You're a good fellow, Leslie.
True gentleman. No man could have done more for us. But, only to think of that woman attacking poor George and me as soon as we got back from the funeral. Abused him for degrading his son, and driving him to his terrible death. It was horrible, sir. Said she would never forgive him, and drove Louise sobbing out of the room.”
Duncan Leslie winced, and Uncle Luke gave him a stern look.
”Ah, fool--fool--fool!” he exclaimed. ”Can't you keep out of those trammels? Louise? Yes, a nice girl--now; but she'll grow up exactly like her aunt. We're a half-mad family, Leslie. Keep away from us.”
”Mr Luke Vine--”
”No, no. You need not say anything. Be content as you are, young man.
Women are little better than monkeys, only better looking. Look at my sister. Told George last night that he was living under false pretences, because he signed his name Vine. Bah! she's an idiot. Half mad.”
He turned sharply round from gazing out to sea, and looked keenly in Leslie's face.
”Very well,” he said quickly. ”I don't care if you think I am.”
”Really, Mr Luke Vine, I--”
”Don't trouble yourself to say it. You thought I wasn't much better than my sister. I could see you did. Very well; perhaps I am not, but I don't go dancing my lunacy in everybody's face. Ah, it's a queer world, Leslie.”
”No, sir; it is the people who are queer.”
”Humph! That's not bad for you, Leslie. Yes; you are about right. It is the people who are queer. I'm a queer one, so my folks think, because I sent my plate to the bank, had my furniture in a big town house sold, and came to live down here. My sister says, to disgrace them all. There, I'm better now. Want to speak to me?”