“Certainly not!” exclaimed Alexander. “I was quite right to warn an old acquaintance against employing such a fellow. He’s a discredit to the bank, he’s a—”
“Stop, papa! I forbid you to say such things—”
Alexander’s great voice suddenly broke out like thunder.
“You! You forbid me to say what I please! I say that John Ralston’s a reprobate, a man not fit to be received in decent society, a low drunkard—”
“Oh! Is that what you say?” John Ralston drew aside the curtain, and entered the room as he spoke.
Katharine turned pale, but her father was no coward. His steely eyes fixed themselves on John’s face.
CHAPTER XII.
As Alexander Junior came towards him, John Ralston advanced from the door. Katharine placed herself between them, very much as her mother had come between her father and herself on the previous afternoon. But Ralston laid his hand gently on her arm, and drew her back.
“Please go into the library, Katharine,” he said.
“No, no!” she cried, in answer. “I can’t leave you together—so.”