Warburton sensed the finality in his voice, and wisely threw away his last chance.

“I understand ’tis painful, my lord, and I will say no more. Only remember⁠—and think on it, I beg!”

The concern in his face touched my lord.

“You are too good to me, Mr. Warburton, I vow. I can only say that I appreciate your kindness⁠—and your forbearance. And I trust that you will forgive my seeming churlishness and believe that I am indeed grateful to you.”

“I wish I might do more for you, Master Jack!” stammered Warburton, made miserable by the wistful note in his favourite’s voice. There was no time for more; the coach already awaited him, and his valise had been hoisted up. As they stood together in the porch, he could only grip my lord’s hand tightly and say goodbye. Then he got hurriedly into the coach, and the door was slammed behind him.