"Go up to my sister," says he; "and say that I have called to wish my

niece many happy returns of the day."

He had made attempts by letter, more than once already, to be reconciled

with my lady, for no other purpose, I am firmly persuaded, than to annoy

her. But this was the first time he had actually come to the house. I

had it on the tip of my tongue to say that my mistress had a party that

night. But the devilish look of him daunted me. I went up-stairs with

his message, and left him, by his own desire, waiting in the hall. The

servants stood staring at him, at a distance, as if he was a walking

engine of destruction, loaded with powder and shot, and likely to go off

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among them at a moment's notice.

My lady had a dash--no more--of the family temper. "Tell Colonel

Herncastle," she said, when I gave her her brother's message, "that Miss

Verinder is engaged, and that I decline to see him." I tried to plead

for a civiller answer than that; knowing the Colonel's constitutional

superiority to the restraints which govern gentlemen in general. Quite

useless! The family temper flashed out at me directly. "When I want your

advice," says my lady, "you know that I always ask for it. I don't ask

for it now." I went downstairs with the message, of which I took the

liberty of presenting a new and amended edition of my own contriving, as

follows: "My lady and Miss Rachel regret that they are engaged, Colonel;

and beg to be excused having the honour of seeing you."

I expected him to break out, even at that polite way of putting it.

To my surprise he did nothing of the sort; he alarmed me by taking the

thing with an unnatural quiet. His eyes, of a glittering bright grey,

just settled on me for a moment; and he laughed, not out of himself,

like other people, but INTO himself, in a soft, chuckling, horridly

mischievous way. "Thank you, Betteredge," he said. "I shall remember my

niece's birthday." With that, he turned on his heel, and walked out of

the house.

The next birthday came round, and we heard he was ill in bed. Six months

afterwards--that is to say, six months before the time I am now writing

of--there came a letter from a highly respectable clergyman to my lady.

It communicated two wonderful things in the way of family news. First,

that the Colonel had forgiven his sister on his death-bed. Second, that

he had forgiven everybody else, and had made a most edifying end. I have

myself (in spite of the bishops and the clergy) an unfeigned respect for

the Church; but I am firmly persuaded, at the same time, that the devil

remained in undisturbed possession of the Honourable John, and that the

last abominable act in the life of that abominable man was (saving your

presence) to take the clergyman in!




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