“Never mind me, young lady,” snapped her father, flying to the safe refuge of rage. “I’m going to save you from this blackmailing fortune hunter.” And the unpleasantly crowded teeth showed savagely through the ragged gray mustache.
“I have asked him to marry me, and——”
“What!” shouted Richmond, again forgetting the groom. “Are you crazy?”
“I am,” said Beatrice simply. “I love him. I’m crazy—permanently crazy.”
“Your mother will take you to New York this very day. You’ll sail day after to-morrow morning.”
“I shall do nothing of the kind,” said the girl.
The sound Richmond made was in the guise of laughter—of mockery. But no snarl or roar could have been so fraught with menace. “We’ll see about this, miss,” said he. “I’ll show you who is master in my family. I’ll show you you can’t go on degrading yourself with this low intrigue. That hound! So he thought he could fasten himself on me—did he? I’ll teach him!”
“I have proposed to him. He has refused me. I’ve made love to him. He has repulsed me.”
Richmond’s cruel mouth under his ragged mustache was horrible to see. “You shameless girl!” he cried. “It’ll be one of the servants next. I must get you safely married at once. If your mother wasn’t absolutely incompetent she’d have had you settled long ago.”
“I shall marry no one but Roger Wade,” came from the quiet figure beside him in a quiet voice.