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"Well, well," grunted her father, with his chuckling laugh, "it's all right, I suppose, seeing that it's your wedding. Have it your own way while you can." For the old man had formed his idea of the significance of Chichester's chin.
Chichester thought a moment then decided "I'll do it," she said determinedly. "It will be hard, but I'll do it." She went slowly and deliberately to Mr. Hawkes, who by this time had disposed of all his documents and was preparing to go. A look in Mrs. Chichester's face stopped him. He smiled at her. "Well?" he asked.
Then Peg laughed loudly to Ethel's horror and Mrs. Chichester's disgust. "How dare you!" cried her aunt. Peg looked at her a moment, all the mirth died away. "Mustn't I laugh in this house?" she asked. "You have a great deal to learn." "Yes, aunt." "Your education will begin to-morrow." "Sure that will be foine," and she chuckled. "No levity, if you please," said her aunt severely. "No, aunt."
For an instant it seemed to Malling that she was going to fall against Chichester's shoulder; but she caught at a chair, and saved herself. "Mr. Chichester!" she said, "tell him! Tell him for me!" "I have nothing to tell him," said Chichester, with a sort of mild, almost weak coldness, and wearily. "Nothing!" She went nearer to him. "But you don't welcome me!"
She looked on life as a gentle brook down whose current she was perfectly content to drift undisturbed. At least, that was the effect created in Mrs. Chichester's mind. She never thought it possible there might be latent possibilities in her impassive daughter.
Nevertheless he struck upon the door. No one answered. He struck again, then stepped back into the roadway, and looked up at Chichester's window. The curate must surely have heard. Yes, for even as Malling gazed the window moved. No light appeared. But after a pause a voice above said: "Is that you, Mr. Harding?"
The war of chicane succeeded to the war of arms and of hostile statutes; and a regular series of operations was carried on, particularly from Chichester's time, in the ordinary courts of justice, and by special commissions and inquisitions, first under pretence of tenures, and then of titles in the crown, for the purpose of the total extirpation of the interest of the natives in their own soil, until this species of subtle ravage, being carried to the last excess of oppression and insolence under Lord Strafford, it kindled the flames of that rebellion which broke out in 1641.
But there was a dull green hue on the walls that surely bespoke Henry Chichester's personal taste. There were bookcases, there were mezzotints, there were engravings of well-known pictures, and there were armchairs not covered with horsehair. There was also a cottage piano, severely nude. In the center of the room stood a small square table covered with a cloth and laid for two persons.
Leaning forward, and holding the edge of the table with one hand, he said: "How well do you know Mr. Harding?" "Pretty well. Not intimately." "You have seen him since he altered?" "I saw him only the other day when I was at a specialist's in Harley Street." "A specialist's?" "For nervous dyspepsia." Again the look of contempt flickered over Chichester's face. "Do you think the alteration in Mr.
Chichester's watchful eyes they would chat and laugh and play like children. She could not understand him he was always discovering new traits in her. They became great friends. Her letters to her father were, at first, very bitter, regarding her treatment by the family.
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