At last
he grew impatient. He walked out, and up the stairs, and listened.
He heard ladies' voices.
He spoke.
_"Min!"_
No answer.
"MIN!" louder.
No answer.
"MIN! HALLO-O-O-O!"
No answer.
_"MIN!"_ a perfect shout.
At this a door was opened violently, and Mrs. Willoughby walked out.
Her cheeks were flushed, and her eyes glanced fire.
"Sir," she said, "this is intolerable! You must be intoxicated. Go
away at once, or I shall certainly have you turned out of the house."
And saying this she went back, shut the door, and locked it.
The Baron was thunder-struck. He had never been treated so in his
life. He was cut to the heart. His feelings were deeply wounded.
"Darn it!" he muttered. "What's all this for? I ain't been doing any
thing."
He walked out very thoughtfully. He couldn't understand it at all. He
was troubled for some time. But at last his buoyant spirit rose
superior to this temporary depression. To-morrow would explain all, he
thought. Yes, to-morrow would make it all right. To-morrow he would
see Min, and get her to tell him what in thunder the row was. She'd
have to tell, for he could never find out. So he made up his mind to
keep his soul in patience.
That evening Hawbury was over at the Baron's quarters, by special
invitation, and the Baron decided to ask his advice. So in the course
of the evening, while in the full, easy, and confidential mood that
arises out of social intercourse, he told Hawbury his whole
story--beginning with the account of his first meeting with Minnie,
and his rescue of her, and her acceptance of him, down to this very
day, when he had been so terribly snubbed by Mrs.
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