Mistress Wilding
fierce, “be no great danger, after all.” And then dismissing that part of the subject as if, like a brave man, the notion of being thought boastful were unpleasant, he passed on to the discussion of ways and means by which the coming duel might be averted. But when they came to grips with facts, it seemed that Sir Rowland had as little idea of what might be done as had the ladies. True, he began by making the obvious suggestion that Richard should tender Wilding a full apology. That, indeed, was the only door of escape, and Blake shrewdly suspected that what the boy had been unwilling to do last night—partly through wine, and partly through the fear of looking fearful in the eyes of Lord Gervase Scoresby's guests—he might be willing enough to do to-day, sober and upon reflection. For the rest Blake was as far from suspecting Mr. Wilding's peculiar frame of mind as had Richard been last night. This his words showed.     

       “I am satisfied,” said he, “that if Richard were to go to-day to Wilding and express his regret for a thing done in the heat of wine, Wilding would be forced to accept it as satisfaction, and none would think that it did other than reflect credit upon Richard.”      

       “Are you very sure of that?” asked Ruth, her tone dubious, her glance hopefully anxious.     

       “What else is to be thought?”      

       “But,” put in Diana shrewdly, “it were an admission of Richard's that he had done wrong.”      

       “No less,” he agreed, and Ruth caught her breath in fresh dismay.     

       “And yet you have said that he did as you would have a son of yours do,”        Diana reminded him.     

       “And I maintain it,” answered Blake; his wits worked slowly ever. It was for Ruth to reveal the flaw to him.     

       “Do you not understand, then,” she asked him sadly, “that such an admission on Richard's part would amount to a lie—a lie uttered to save himself from an encounter, the worst form of lie, a lie of cowardice? Surely, Sir Rowland, your kindly anxiety for his life outruns your anxiety for his honour.”      

       Diana, having accomplished her task, hung her head in silence, pondering.     

       
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