CHAPTER XXV.
HOW TITA WAGES WAR WITH MARGARET AND MAURICE; AND HOW MARGARET SUFFERS IGNOMINIOUS TREATMENT ON BOTH HANDS; AND HOW MAURICE AT THE LAST GAINS ONE SMALL VICTORY.
There is a moment's awful silence, and then Tita sweeps straight up to Rylton, who is gazing at her as if he never saw her before. As for Margaret, she feels as if she is going to faint.
"I—I!" says Tita; "to accuse me of marrying you for your title! I never thought about your title. I don't care a fig for your title. My greatest grief now is that people call me Lady Rylton."
"I beg of you, Tita——" begins Margaret, trembling; she lays her hand on the girl's arm, but Tita shakes her off.
"Don't speak to me. Don't touch me. You are as bad as he is. You took his part all through. You said you felt for him! When he was saying all sorts of dreadful things about me. You said, 'Yes, yes, of course.' I heard you; I was listening. I heard every word."
"May I ask," says Rylton, "if you did not marry me for my title, what did you marry me for? Not," with a sneer, "for love, certainly."
"I should think not," with a sneer on her part that sinks his into insignificance. "I married you to escape from my uncle, who was making me wretched! But not"—with an ireful glance at him—"half as wretched as you have made me!"
Rylton shrugs his shoulders. You should never shrug your shoulders when a woman is angry.
"Yes, wretched—wretched!" says Tita, angry tears flooding her eyes. "There was never any one so miserable as I have been since I married you."