that I was right. The bank
on my left proved to be no bank, but the cliff-edge of the chalk pit
only, by which the sunken way passed very near. I led the horses round
to the right; and there were we, in the very situation I had surmised.
Still holding Dolly's bridle, I mounted my own horse; and when I had
done so, to secure myself and her the better, I pulled the reins
suddenly over her horse's head, and brought them into my left hand.
"That is safer," I observed. "Now we can pretend to be friends again;
and hold that conversation of which I spoke after we left London."
There was no answer, as we set out along the way. It was a little
clearer by now; and I could see the bank on my right. I glanced at her;
and in the light of the lantern I could see that she was sitting very
upright and motionless like a shadow. I lowered the lantern to the right
side, so that she was altogether in the dark and the bank illuminated. I
felt a little compassion for her indeed; but I dared not shew it.
"Now, Cousin," I said, "I preached to His Majesty yesterday; and he
told me I should be a Bishop at least. Now it is you that must hear a
sermon."
Again she said nothing.
I had rehearsed pretty well by now all that I meant to say to her; and
it was good for me that I had, else I might have fallen weak again when
I saw her so unhappy. As it was I kept back some of the biting sentences
I had prepared. My address was somewhat as follows. We jogged forward
very gingerly as I spoke.
"Cousin," I began, "you have treated me very ill. The first of your
offences to me was that, though I had earned, I think, the right to call
myself your friend, neither you nor your father gave me any hint
whatever of your going to Court. I know very well why you did not; and I
shall have a little discourse to make to your father upon the matter, at
the proper time. But for all that I had a right to be told. If you were
to go, I might at least have got you better protection in the beginning
than that of the--the--well--of Her Grace of Portsmouth.
"Now all that was the cause of the very small offence that I committed
against you myself--that of forcing my way into your lodgings. For that
I offer my apologies--not for the fact, but for the manner of it. And
even that apology is not very deep: I shall presently tell you why.
"The next of your offences to me was that open defiance which you
shewed, and some of the words you addressed to me, both then and
a
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