His whole face changed, his hazel eye gleamed with light like an
eagle's, and he started up, exclaiming--

'You did not mean that?'

'Ask Strafford,' answered Charles, coolly, startled, but satisfied to
have found the vulnerable point.

'Ungenerous, unmanly,' said Guy, his voice low, but quivering with
indignation; 'ungenerous to reproach him with what he so bitterly
repented. Could not his penitence, could not his own blood'--but as he
spoke, the gleam of wrath faded, the flush deepened on the cheek, and
he left the room.

'Ha!' soliloquized Charles, 'I've done it! I could fancy his wrath
something terrific when it was once well up. I didn't know what was
coming next; but I believe he has got himself pretty well in hand. It
is playing with edge tools; and now I have been favoured with one flash
of the Morville eye, I'll let him alone; but it _ryled_ me to be
treated as something beneath his anger, like a woman or a child.'

In about ten minutes, Guy came back: 'I am sorry that I was hasty just
now,' said he.

'I did not know you had such personal feelings about King Charles.'

'If you would do me a kindness,' proceeded Guy, 'you would just say you
did not mean it. I know you do not, but if you would only say so.'