“And do you think,” she exclaimed, turning on him sharply and suddenly, “that I am such a weak and soulless woman as to desert the man I love because he has fallen a victim to the schemes of a villain? Nay, more, that I would sell myself, body and soul, to that villain to save my betrothed? Do your worst, sir. I defy and scorn you. I would rather wed John Elkton in a prison than you in a palace. But I believe that you are a liar and a knave outright.”
“You have defied me; that is enough,” he said, with a gloomy and resolute air. “But it is passion only that speaks in you. You will return to reason and be sorry for what you have said.”
“Never, sir, never!” she cried, passionately. “You have put yourself beyond the pale of my consideration by your base effort. This interview has lasted long enough. I cannot and will not bear it longer.”
She turned and swept through the door like an offended queen, without another look at the man, who stood there pale and discomfited, biting his lips in impotent anger.
CHAPTER XIII.
NO ANSWER.
An old, well-dressed and fine-faced gentleman called at Mr. Leonard’s store, and stood looking irresolutely down the long floor, as if in doubt whom to address. A salesman approached, supposing him to be a customer.
“What can I do for you, sir?” he asked.
“I came to inquire about a boy you have engaged here. I believe you have a boy?”
“Yes, sir. I hope there is nothing wrong about him. Has he been in mischief?”