"'Drop that foolish talk,' he cried. 'I will hear no more of it, nor of your staying in the house on that account or any other. You will go out to-morrow. You will go out with Mr. Harding. You will——'
"'Father,' I put in, chill as ice, 'do you expect to carry me out in your arms?'
"He fell back; he was a small man, my father, and I, as you know, am large for a woman.
"'You vixen!' he muttered, 'curses on the day when you were born!'
"'That curse has been already pronounced,' I muttered.
"He stood still, he made no answer, he seemed to be gathering himself together for a final appeal. Had he looked at me a little longer; had he shown any sympathy for my position, any appreciation for my wrongs, or any compunction for the share he had taken in them, I might have shown myself to have possessed some womanly softness and latent gentleness. But instead of that he took on in those few frightful moments such a look of cold, calculating hate that I was at once steeled and appalled. I hardly knew what he said when he cried at last:
"'Once! twice! thrice! Will you do what I desire, Hermione?'
"I only knew he had asked something I could not grant, so I answered, with what calmness I could, in the old formula, now for some months gone into disuse, 'I will not,' and sank, weary with my own emotions, into a chair.
"He gave me one look—I shall never forget it,—and threw up his arms with what sounded like an imprecation.
"'Then your sin be upon your own head!' he cried, and without another word left the room.