Claudia could not reply; the anger, scorn, and disgust that filled her bosom fairly choked her voice.
After a struggle with herself, she managed to articulate:
"How does the earl like your protection of this woman?"
"I wish you would not use that word 'protection,' Claudia. It is an equivocal one."
"Then it is the better suited to describe the relation, which is certainly most equivocal!" Claudia, in spite of all her resolutions, could not for the life of her help replying.
"It is false! And I will not permit you to say it. The position of Mrs. Dugald is not an equivocal one. It is clearly defined. She is my brother's widow. When I invited her to take up her residence in this castle I took care to leave it before she arrived. And I never returned to it until to-day, when I brought you with me. Your presence here, of course, renders the residence of my brother's widow beneath my roof altogether proper."
Claudia had much to do to control her feelings, as she said:
"We will waive the question of propriety, which, of course, is settled by my presence in the house; but you have not yet told me how the earl likes this arrangement."
"I have not seen the earl since the arrangement has been made. I fancy he will like it well, since it relieves him of the burden of having her to support, and saves him from the mortification of seeing her return to the boards."
"Good-night, my lord!" said Claudia abruptly, rising and retiring to her bedroom, for she felt that she could not remain another moment in Lord Vincent's presence, without confronting him with her perfect knowledge of his meditated villainy, and thus losing her only chance of defeating it.