“And what a pleasant thing it is,” Mrs. Meredith went on, “to reflect that this is the only result of Percy’s attempt to make mischief—the viper! Aimée, do you know that there are dreadful possibilities of malice in that man? I shudder when I remember the expression of his face as he stood there”—she pointed to the spot—“looking at me. And what makes me shudder, is the thought of his having any power over you.”
“He has none at all,” said Aimée, a little haughtily. “What is Percy Joscelyn to me?”
“To you?—nothing. But he directs every act of your mother and stepfather, and therefore he has a dangerous power over your life. I tell you frankly that I shall never feel that you are safe until you are married and out of their clutches.”
“Safe from what?” asked Aimée, quietly.
“Well,” answered Fanny, reluctantly, “I don’t want to be melodramatic, or I should say safe from danger. I believe Percy to be capable of any wickedness. I did not think so until to-day. Hitherto I have thought him more mean than wicked, but it was as if I looked down into his soul when he stood there gazing at me with hatred in his eyes, and what I saw there was as black as—as the bottomless pit!”
“Fanny!” said Aimée, astonished and startled, for this flight of imagination was singularly unlike Fanny, who generally took things on the surface, and was not at all addicted to descending in fancy to the region of which she spoke.
“I mean exactly what I say, my dear,” replied her cousin, with energy. “I assure you that I wish I could see you married to-morrow.”
“It would have to be an elopement, then,” said Aimée, with something between a smile and a sob, “for I have just been informed that we are to return to Paris to-morrow.”
“Aimée!” It was fairly a scream that Mrs. Meredith gave. “You will not dream of consenting to go?”
“What reason have I for refusing?” the girl asked, wistfully. “I can not, without some reason, positively decline to accompany my mother. I have told them that I shall certainly marry Mr. Kyrle; but that has nothing to do with returning to Paris.”