The archdeacon read the three or four first lines in silence,—and then he burst out. "He has, has he? Then, by heavens—"
"Stop, dearest; stop," said his wife, rising from her chair and coming over to him; "do not say words which you will surely repent."
"I will say words which shall make him repent. He shall never have from me a son's portion."
"Do not make threats in anger. Do not! You know that it is wrong. If he has offended you, say nothing about it,—even to yourself,—as to threatened punishments, till you can judge of the offence in cool blood."
"I am cool," said the archdeacon.
"No, my dear; no; you are angry. And you have not even read his letter through."
"I will read his letter."
"You will see that the marriage is not imminent. It may be that even yet it will never take place. The young lady has refused him."
"Psha!"
"You will see that she has done so. He tells us so himself. And she has behaved very properly."