“I don’t see why you should be surprised,” answered the young girl. “Of course he might take it into his head to be angry with you for what you’ve done. It wasn’t very nice. I’m not sure that, in his place, I should ever wish to see you again.”
“My child, what an exaggeration! You talk as though I had deliberately sought him out and asked him to the house—almost asked him to marry you.”
“It comes to that,” observed Katharine, coldly.
“Really, Katharine, you’re—beyond words!” Mrs. Lauderdale drew back a little, in displeasure, and looked at her severely.
“I could forgive you,” continued the young girl, “if you hadn’t known that I love Jack and never shall marry any one else. You know it and you’ve always known it. That makes it much worse. You’ve made that poor man suffer without the slightest reason. You could just as well have told him that you knew I cared for some one else, and you could have been as nice to him as you pleased. You’ve hurt him, and you’ve driven me to hurt him, by no fault of mine, just to undo the mischief you’ve done. Of course, it’s papa who’s really done it all, but you needn’t have let him twist you round his little finger like a wisp of straw.”
“Oh, Katharine! Anything more unjust!”
“I’m not unjust, mother. But I’m too old to think everything you do is perfect, merely because it’s you. When I see a man like Archie Wingfield sitting there and straining his hands to keep himself quiet, and choking with the sound of his own words, I know he’s suffering—and when I know that he’s suffering uselessly, and that it’s all your fault and papa’s, I judge you—that’s all. I’m a grown woman. I have a right to judge.”
The door opened and Alexander Junior appeared upon the threshold, just returned from his office.
“I heard your voice, so I came in,” he said, with an electric smile which was meant to be conciliatory. “Oh!” he exclaimed, in altered tones, as he saw the faces of the two women, “has anything happened?”
For a moment there was silence. Mrs. Lauderdale looked at the empty fireplace, avoiding the eyes of both her husband and her daughter. But Katharine leaned back in her seat and faced her father. Her voice was almost as cold and steely as his could be when she answered him at last.