"Miss Baron!" cried Maynard, taking off his hat.
Whately threw back his head proudly. This was better than he had dreamed, for now his cousin would be compelled to recognize his high and haughty spirit. A glance at the girl's pale, stern face as she stepped out between them was not altogether reassuring. She glanced coldly from one to the other for a moment and then said firmly, "I have something to say about this affair."
"Pardon me, Miss Baron," Maynard began, bowing, "if I am compelled to disabuse your mind. This is a little matter between Lieutenant Whately and myself. I am surprised beyond measure that he has invited you to be present."
"That's a lie," thundered Whately, drawing his weapon from his belt.
"Stop, both of you," cried the girl. "Captain Maynard, my cousin has not invited me. Your purpose of meeting was discovered by accident and revealed to me late last night—too late for me to do anything then. All the long night I have sat at my window that I might be in time to keep you from disgracing yourselves and me."
"Great heavens! Miss Baron, you do me injustice," cried Maynard. "I have been insulted. I never thought of wronging you. Perish such a thought!"
"Evidently neither of you has thought of me, nor cared for me or others. Yourselves, your own vindictive feelings have engrossed you wholly, yet I know I'm the innocent cause of this brutal encounter, and the world would know me to be the cause whether it believed me innocent or not. I tell you plainly that if you fight I shall brand you both unworthy the name of gentlemen and I shall proclaim to all your outrage to me."
"Outrage to you, Miss Baron?" said Maynard, with a bitter, incredulous laugh.
"Yes," she replied, turning upon him fiercely. "What can you think of me when you fight about me like a wild beast?"
"I am prepared to fight Lieutenant Whately on entirely different grounds," he replied, his face flushing hotly at her words.