He followed me a pace or two, however, before I reached the door, looking
horridly angry, but stopped, and only swore after me some of those 'wry
words' which I was never to have heard. I was myself, however, too much
incensed, and moving at too rapid a pace, to catch their import; and I had
knocked at my uncle's door before I began to collect my thoughts.
'Come in,' replied my uncle's voice, clear, thin, and peevish.
I entered and confronted him.
'Your son, sir, has insulted me.'
He looked at me with a cold curiosity steadly for a few seconds, as I stood
panting before him with flaming cheeks.
'Insulted you?' repeated he. 'Egad, you surprise me!'
The ejaculation savoured of 'the old man,' to borrow his scriptural phrase,
more than anything I had heard from him before.
'_How?_' he continued; 'how has Dudley _insulted_ you, my dear child? Come,
you're excited; sit down; take time, and tell me all about it. I did not
know that Dudley was here.'
'I--he--it _is_ an insult. He knew very well--he _must_ know I dislike him;
and he presumed to make a proposal of marriage to me.'
'O--o--oh!' exclaimed my uncle, with a prolonged intonation which plainly
said, Is that the mighty matter?
He looked at me as he leaned back with the same steady curiosity, this time
smiling, which somehow frightened me, and his countenance looked to me
wicked, like the face of a witch, with a guilt I could not understand.
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