Part 14 (1/2)
Her little foot tapped the gravel path impatiently.
”Must honour ever come first?”
”Would my lady have her knight place it second?”
”Nay, love should have first place,” she declared boldly; and now her eyes were tender.
”Twin sisters to go hand in hand rather,” he said softly, ”as you and I would have them.”
”But it is lonely at Langton Hall,” she replied piteously, as a spoilt child.
”Less lonely than London town, I warrant. Yet my father remains at Berrington now.”
”And my brother's friends stay at the Hall. It does not please me.”
”You will not forget the honeysuckle?”
”I do not forget what I want.”
”Nor I--even in dreams,” he whispered, raising the white hand which lay against his sleeve and kissing it reverently.
A step on the path behind startled them, for it had seemed before that the world was empty save for they two. But no Paradise lacks its serpent.
Lord Denningham might have been conscious of the simile.
”A moonlight rhapsody,” he sneered. ”But I fear, madam, your brother grows impatient.”
She rose with immense dignity.
”You will give me your hand to my coach, sir?” she asked of Michael.
Lord Denningham laughed shortly beneath his breath.
”The squire of dames is a pleasant role to fill--and a safe one,” he observed with another sneer.
Michael drew himself up proudly.
”Lord Denningham will find me ready enough to fill another, anon,” he retorted.
The young n.o.bleman toyed with a ribbon about his neck.
”And that?” he scoffed.
”A teacher of manners to blatant puppy-dogs.”
”You forget, sir, that puppy-dogs bite sometimes, and I have heard that a Berrington is afraid of a cracked skin.”
”It is dangerous to listen to too many tales, my lord.”
The voices of both were rising higher, whilst Michael's eyes were ablaze at his adversary's last insult.