’ ‘Take care,’ warned Hilary, his eyes on his improvised bandage. ‘Because,’ said Lady Bicknacre in the confidential manner of all matrons when passing on a tidbit of scandal, ‘Nicholas married against his father’s wishes and ran away. It was Sunday evening—a soft delicious evening, and, from the happy, cheerful look of the house, none would have dreamed of the dismal tragedy so lately acted within its walls. Since morning he had become fanatical; the atoms of common sense no longer functioned in the accustomed groove. “Why should I bear the burden of your wickedness? Who knows what might come of it? I shall permit nothing of the sort. He wondered if the young fool had any idea of what he had drawn in this tragic lottery called marriage.
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