"It's a-concerning of these domestic matters," he said. "I come up to tell yer, knowing as you're interested in this family."
"Well," said Hilary. "What has happened?"
"It's along of the young girl's having left them, as you may know."
"It's brought things to a crisax," explained Creed.
The old butler related the facts of the assault. "I took 'is bayonet away from him," he ended; "he didn't frighten me."
"Is he out of his mind?" asked Hilary.
"I've no conscience of it," replied Creed. "His wife, she's gone the wrong way to work with him, in my opinion, but that's particular to women. She's a-goaded of him respecting a certain party. I don't say but what that young girl's no better than what she ought to be; look at her profession, and her a country girl, too! She must be what she oughtn't to. But he ain't the sort o' man you can treat like that. You can't get thorns from figs; you can't expect it from the lower orders. They only give him a month, considerin' of him bein' wounded in the war. It'd been more if they'd a-known he was a- hankerin' after that young girl--a married man like him; don't ye think so, sir?"
Hilary's face had assumed its retired expression. 'I cannot go into that with you,' it seemed to say.