"I don't know what you're talking about, Victoria," he said, but his glance was fixed on the clipping in her hand.
"Haven't you seen it?" she asked, giving it to him.
He read it in silence, groaned, and handed it to Mr. Flint, who had been drumming on the table and glancing at Victoria with vague disapproval. Mr. Flint read it and gave it back to the Honourable Hilary, who groaned again and looked out of the window.
"Why do you feel badly about it?" asked Victoria. "I'd be proud of him, if I were you."
"Proud of him" echoed Mr. Vane, grimly. "Proud of him!"
"Victoria, what do you mean?" said Mr. Flint.
"Why not?" said Victoria. "He's done nothing to make you ashamed. According to that clipping, he's punished a man who richly deserved to be punished, and he has the sympathy of an entire county."
Hilary Vane was not a man to discuss his domestic affliction with anybody, so he merely grunted and gazed persistently out of the window, and was not aware of the fact that Victoria made a little face at him as she left the room. The young are not always impartial judges of the old, and Victoria had never forgiven him for carrying to her father the news of an escapade of hers in Ripton.