ad 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
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 undi