Has your friend asked you to plead
for him? Does he expect me to take him up on your account and have him
here?"
"I was jesting when I said he would come to-morrow," said Penelope,
ignoring the thrust and hurrying to her subject. "I couldn't go to
sleep to-night if I neglected to tell you what I think of the outrage
this morning. You and Cecil had no right to order Tompkins to shoot at
Mr. Shaw. He is not a trespasser. Some one killed his dog to-day. When
he pursued the coward, a second shot was fired at him. He was wounded.
Do you call that fair fighting? Ambushed, shot from behind a tree.
I don't care what you and Cecil think about it, I consider it
despicable. Thank God, Cecil was not really to blame. It is about the
only thing I can say to my brother's credit."
Lady Bazelhurst was staring at her young-sister-in-law with wide eyes.
It was the first time in all her petted, vain life that any one had
called her to account. She was, at first, too deeply amazed to resent
the sharp attack.
"Penelope Drake!" was all she could say. Then the fury in her soul
began to search for an outlet. "How dare you? How dare you?"
"I don't mean to hurt you. I am only telling you that your way of
treating this affair is a mistake. It can be rectified. You don't want
to be lawless; you don't understand what a narrow escape from murder
you have had. Evelyn, you owe reparation to Mr. Shaw. He is--"
"I understand why you take his side. You cheapen and degrade yourself
and you bring shame upon your brother and me by your disgraceful
affair with this ruffian.
Pages:
348
349
350
351
352
353
354
355
356
357
358
359
360
361
362
363
364
365
366
367
368
369
370
371
372