give himself, after the wild rush
of his flight homeward, a little time to think. And he thought, knitting
his little brows, twitching his little face, his heart aching, his little
body, even, all strained with the effort. No! whatever he did, whatever
he had to bear, he would not hurt mamma.

CHAPTER LI.

Warrender had a long conference with Dick Cavendish in the old library
at the Warren. Mr. Wilberforce, who had been sent for, came at once,
full of curiosity and excitement; and though Mr. Longstaffe could not be
had, the experience of the two clergymen, who knew all about marriage
registers and the proofs that were necessary, was of use in this curious
family crisis. It was all very important both to Chatty and to the family
in general, and Theo did his utmost to keep his attention to it, but his
thoughts were elsewhere. He was glad to be released, when all was done
that could be done by the little family commission. The result was a
kind of compromise. No one had any moral doubt that Dick was right, but
some higher sanction seemed to be necessary before he could be allowed
to take Chatty away. The ladies had to be called in to soothe and subdue
his impetuosity, to get him to consent to delay. Warrender scarcely
waited to see how it was settled. The impatience within him was not to
be controlled. His heart was at Markland, hot with anger and anxiety,
while he was forced to remain here and talk of other things. Yes, to be
sure, Chatty's good name, her happiness,--if she considered that her
happiness lay in that,--were important. It was important for Cavendish
too, if any one cared what was important for Cavendish: but good heavens!
not so important,--could any one suppose so for a moment?--as what had
happened, what might be happening, elsewhere. Old Joseph had stopped him
as he went through the hall to tell him that the little lord had run
off and got on his pony, and had gone home. He had gone home. It was a
relief for one thing, for Theo had felt that it would be impossible for
him to carry that little demon back with him in the dog-cart, as it
would have been his duty to do. But in another--how could he tell what
might be happening while he was kept there, amid maddening delays and
hesitations, looking over Dick Cavendish's papers? What could Dick
Cavendish's papers matter? A few days sooner or later, what could it
matter to Dick Cavendish? Whereas to himself--That boy might be lying
senseless on the road