"He is no friend of mine," I say, sullenly, beating my foot petulantly against the ground. "I always understood he was a particular favorite of yours. If you consider him such a disreputable creature, why did you invite him to your house!
"Because I was unfortunately under the impression I could ask any man with safety into my wife's house," says he, loftily; and the quotation in which Caesar's wife is brought to bear comes to my mind: I am almost tempted to mention it for purposes of provocation, but refrain. In truth, I am really unhappy, and at my wit's end, by this. Surely I cannot have so altogether forgotten myself as he seems to imagine.
"There are worse people here than Mark Gore," I remark, still sullen.
"If there are, I don't know them, and certainly do not wish to discuss them. The misdemeanors of the world do not concern me; it is with you alone I have to deal. Ever since Gore entered the house you have shown an open and most undignified desire for his society. I bore it all in silence, neither thwarting you nor exhibiting my displeasure in any way; but when I see you casting aside common prudence, and making yourself a subject for scandalous remarks, I think it is high time for me to interfere and assert my authority. Were you several years younger than you are, you are still quite old enough to know right from wrong; and for the future"—here he stops short close beside me, and, with his blue eyes flashing, goes on, "for the future, I insist on your conducting yourself as my wife should."
When a man is without his coat and waistcoat, and thinks himself ill-used, he generally looks more than his actual height. Marmaduke, standing before me with uplifted hand to enforce his remarks, and with a very white face, certainly appears uncomfortably tall. He is towering over poor little me, in my heelless shoes and white gown, and for a moment it occurs to me that I ought to feel frightened; the next instant anger has overpowered me, and raised me to his level.
"How dare you speak to me like that? By what right do you use such language? You who every hour of the day make yourself conspicuous with that horrible cousin of yours? Do you suppose, then, that I have no eyes? that I cannot fathom motives, and actions, and—-`"
"What do you mean?" interrupts he, haughtily.
"That sounds very well; but if, when you accused me of flirting with Mark Gore, I had drawn myself up, and asked, in an injured tone, 'what you meant,' you would very soon have told me I knew only too well. Have I not noticed you with Blanche? Do you ever leave her side? Whispering in corridors—lingering in conservatories—letting her write you letters! Oh, I know everything!" cry I, absolutely sobbing with long pent-up rage and grief.
"Write me letters!" repeats 'Duke, in utter bewilderment.
"Yes; long, long letters. I saw it."