"If I had the settling of him! I—I almost feel to hate him. He's a brute!"
And before Mattie had time to reprove the faithful Ann for the outburst, Miss Packet had left the room, and gone down-stairs to cry afresh over the breakfast she had to prepare for Mr. Hinchford.
Mattie passed into the other room, and found Harriet Wesden asleep, as she had fancied. The toil of yesternight, the excitement and suspense, had brought their reaction, and Harriet had flung herself, dressed as she was, upon the bed, where she had dropped off into slumber.
Mattie stood for a moment irresolute whether to wake her or no; had it been simply to say "good-bye," she would have hesitated longer, though she might have awakened her at last.
"Harriet—Harriet!" she whispered, as she bent over her.
The fair girl started up and looked at Mattie.
"What's happened now, dear?"
"Nothing very important," said Mattie, who had determined how to proceed. "I have been thinking of our next step together concerning last night. Your father is down-stairs."
"Oh! he must not know it—he must never know it!" exclaimed Harriet; "he is weaker in mind—more excitable, suspicious—what would he think of me, keeping the name of Maurice Darcy from him all my life?"
"Harriet, promise me never to tell him—I am not frightened at the truth, but of their perversion of it, destroying for ever your good name—promise me!"