The major left Yrndale the next morning, saying now there was Mark to
attend to, his room was better than his company. Vavasor would stay a
day or two longer, he said, much relieved. He could not go until he saw
Mark fairly started on the way of recovery.
But in reality the major went because he could no longer endure the
sight of "that idiot," as he called Vavasor, and with design against him
fermenting in his heart.
"The poltroon!" he said. "A fellow like that to marry a girl like cousin
Helen's girl! A grand creature, by George! The grandest creature I ever
saw in my life! Why, rather than wet his clothes the sneak would have
let us both drown after I had got him to the bank! Calling to me to go
to him, when I had done my best, and was at the last gasp!"
He was not fair to Vavasor; he never asked if he could swim. But indeed
Vavasor could swim, well enough, only he did not see the necessity for
it. He did not love his neighbor enough to grasp the facts of the case.
And after all he could and did do without him!
The major hurried to London, assured he had but to inquire to find out
enough and more than enough to his discredit, of the fellow.
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