“But you have been, and just this minute too; and I will know what for. Come, now, you shall tell me!”
“Do let me alone, Ralph! Remember, we are not at home.”
“No matter: you shall answer my question!” exclaimed her tormentor; and he attempted to extort the confession by shaking her, and remorselessly crushing her slight arms in the gripe of his powerful fingers.
“Don’t let him treat your sister in that way,” said I to Mr. Hargrave.
“Come now, Hattersley, I can’t allow that,” said that gentleman, stepping up to the ill-assorted couple. “Let my sister alone, if you please.”
And he made an effort to unclasp the ruffian’s fingers from her arm, but was suddenly driven backward, and nearly laid upon the floor by a violent blow on the chest, accompanied with the admonition, “Take that for your insolence! and learn to interfere between me and mine again.”
“If you were not drunk, I’d have satisfaction for that!” gasped Hargrave, white and breathless as much from passion as from the immediate effects of the blow.
“Go to the devil!” responded his brother-in-law. “Now, Milicent, tell me what you were crying for.”
“I’ll tell you some other time,” murmured she, “when we are alone.”
“Tell me now!” said he, with another shake and a squeeze that made her draw in her breath and bite her lip to suppress a cry of pain.