"There is no need you should," rejoined her stepfather coolly. "He is not for you, and you are not for him. Do you understand that?"
It was unwise for Alpenny to meddle with a maiden's fancies, for the girl's outraged womanhood revolted. "I understand that you mean to be impertinent, Mr. Alpenny," she said, with a flaming colour.
"'Mr. Alpenny'? Why not 'father,' as usual?"
"Because you are no father of mine, and I thank God for it."
He gave her a vindictive look, and rubbed his hands together, with the croak of a hungry raven. "I brought you up, I educated you, I fed you, I housed you, I----"
Beatrice waved her hand impatiently. "I know well what you have done," said she; "as little as you could."
"Here's gratitude!"
"And common sense, Mr. Alpenny. I know nothing, save that you married my mother and promised to look after me when she died."
"I promised nothing," snapped Alpenny.
"Durban says that you did."