'Not I' said Charles; 'that can't be laid to my door.'
'But I'll write him such a letter this instant as shall make him remember what he is, and show him who he has to deal with. Eh, Charlie?'
'Don't you think,' said Guy, preparing to go, 'that it might be better to wait a day or two, till we see our way clearer, and are a little cooler?'
'I tell you, Guy, there is no one that puts me out of patience now, but yourself. You are as bad as Philip himself. Cool? I am coolness itself, all but what's proper spirit for a man to show when his family is affronted, and himself dictated to, by a meddling young jackanapes. I'll serve him out properly!'
A message called him away. Guy stood looking perplexed and sorrowful.
'Never mind,' said Charles, 'I'll take care the letter is moderate. Besides, it is only Philip, and he knows that letter-writing is not his forte.'
'I am afraid things will be said in irritation, which you will both regret. There are justice and reason in the letter.'
'There shall be more in the answer, as you will see.'
'No, I will not see. It is Mr. Edmonstone's concern, not mine. I am the last person who should have anything to do with it.'
'Just what the individual in question would not have said.'
'Would you do one thing to oblige me, Charlie?'
'Anything but not speaking my mind to, or of, the captain.'
'That is the very thing, unluckily. Try to get the answer put off till to-morrow, and that will give time to look at this letter candidly.'
'All the candour in the world will not make me think otherwise than that he is disappointed at being no longer able to make us the puppets of his malevolence. Don't answer, or if you do, tell me what you say in favour of that delicate insinuation of his.'
Guy made a step towards the window, and a step back again. ''Tis not fair to ask such questions,' he replied, after a moment. 'It is throwing oil on the fire. I was trying to forget it. He neither knows my uncle nor the circumstances.'
'Well, I am glad there is a point on which you can't even pretend to stand up for him, or I should have thought you crazed with Quixotism. But I am keeping you when you want to be off to Amy. Never mind Mr. Ready-to-halt; I shall wait till my father comes back. If you want the letter put off you had better give some hopes of--Oh! he is gone, and disinterested advice it is of mine, for what is to become of me without Amy remains to be proved. Laura, poor thing, looks like Patience on a monument. I wonder whether Philip's disgrace has anything to do with it. Hum! If mamma's old idea was right, the captain has been more like moth and candle than consistent with his prudence, unless he thought it "a toute epreuve". I wonder what came to pass last autumn, when I was ill, and mamma's head full of me. He may not intend it, and she may not know it, but I would by no means answer for Cupid's being guiltless of that harassed look she has had ever since that ball-going summer. Oh! there go that pretty study, Amy and her true knight. As to Guy, he is more incomprehensible than ever; yet there is no avoiding obeying him, on the principle on which that child in the "Moorland cottage" said she should obey Don Quixote.'