"There is no very warm approval there of the course you are taking," I
said. "The only difference between your brother and me is, that he
suspends his opinion, and that I express mine."
"I have no fear of my brother," Oscar answered. "Nugent will feel for me,
and understand me, when he comes to Browndown. In the meantime, this
shall not happen again."
He stooped over Jicks. The child, while we were talking, had laid herself
down luxuriously on the grass, and was singing to herself little snatches
of a nursery song. Oscar pulled her up on her legs rather roughly. He was
out of temper with her, as well as with himself.
"What are you going to do?" I asked.
"I am going to see Mr. Finch," he answered, "and to have Jicks kept for
the future out of Lucilla's garden."
"Does Mr. Finch approve of your silence?"
"Mr. Finch, Madame Pratolungo, leaves me to decide on a matter which
concerns nobody but Lucilla and myself."
After that reply, there was an end of all further remonstrance from me,
as a matter of course.
Oscar walked off with his prisoner to the house. Jicks trotted along by
his side, unconscious of the mischief she had done, singing another verse
of the nursery song. I rejoined Lucilla, with my mind made up as to the
line of conduct I should adopt in the future. If Oscar did succeed in
keeping the truth concealed from her, I was positively resolved, come
what might of it, to enlighten her before they were married, with my own
lips. What! after pledging myself to keep the secret? Yes. Perish the
promise which makes me false to a person whom I love! I despise such
promises from the bottom of my heart.
Two days more slipped by--and then a telegram found its way to Browndown.
Oscar came running to us, at the rectory, with his news. Nugent had
landed at Liverpool. Oscar was to expect him at Dimchurch on the next
day.