"Don't you take it too much to heart," answered the mother. "Maybe he thought better of Cora than he seemed to do. He's always harsh and hard like that to young people; but it means nought. I believe that Cora's a bit frightened, that's all."
"We must see him," said Nathan. "At least, I must. I make this my affair."
"'Twill be better for me to do so."
"I tried that hard to please the man," sobbed Cora; "but he looked me through—tore me to pieces with his eyes like a savage dog. Nothing was right from my head to my heels. Flouted my clothes—flouted my talk—was angered, seemingly, because I couldn't tell him how to cure a pony of strangles—wanted me to tell the name of every bird on the bough, and weed in the gutter. And not a spark of hope or kindness from first to last. He did say that I'd got my mother's patience, and that's the only pat on the back he gave me. Patient! I could have sclowed his ugly face down with my nails!"
Her mother stroked her shoulder.
"Hush!" she said. "Don't take on about it. We shall hear what Mark has got to tell."
"I don't care what he's got to tell. I'm not going to be scared out of my life, and bullied and trampled on by that old beast!"
"No more you shall be," cried Nathan. "He'll say 'tis no business of mine, but everything to do with Undershaugh is my business. I'll see him. He's always hard on me; now I'll be hard on him and learn him how to treat a woman."
"Don't go in heat," urged Mrs. Lintern after Cora had departed with the sympathetic Phyllis. "There's another side, you know. Cora's not his sort. No doubt her fine clothes—she would go in 'em, though I advised her not—no doubt they made him cranky; and then things went from bad to worse."
"'Tis not a bit of use talking to me, Hester. I'm angered, and naturally angered. In a way this was meant to anger me, I'm afraid. He well knows how much you all at Undershaugh are to me. 'Twas to make me feel small, as much as anything, that he snubbed her so cruel. No—I'll not hear you on the subject—not now. I'll see him to-day."