“You are quite mistaken,” she said after a pause, “I have never mentioned your name to Captain Pullen—I had no idea, until those letters fell into my hands, that he had so far forgotten what he owes to me, as to address you in any terms but those of mere acquaintanceship. But now that I do know, it must of course be put a stop to at once and for ever! It was to tell you so, that I came here this afternoon.”
“Put a stop to! Do you imagine that I am going to give up Captain Pullen at your request? You are vastly mistaken!”
“But you must—you shall!” exclaimed Elinor, getting (for her) quite excited. “He is engaged to marry me, and I will not allow him to keep up any communication with you! My decision is final, and you will be good enough to respect it!”
“Your decision is final!” cried Harriet in mocking tones. “Oh! indeed, is it? And what about Ralph’s decision? Does that count for nothing? What if Ralph refuses to give me up?”
Elinor rose to her feet, trembling with indignation at the other’s boldness.
“You shall not call him ‘Ralph’,” she exclaimed. “How dare you speak of a man who is nothing to you, in such familiar terms?”
“But is he nothing to me?” retorted Harriet, “and am I nothing to him? We must have that question answered first. Ralph told me to call him by his name, and he calls me Hally. How can you prevent our doing so? He loves me—he has told me so—and I shall write to him as often as I choose—yes! and I will take him from you, if I choose, and keep him into the bargain! What do you say to that?”
“I say that you are a bold, brazen girl, not fit for me to associate with, and that I refuse to be contaminated by your presence any longer! Let me go!”
She made an effort to gain the door, as she spoke, but Harriet barred her exit.
“No, no, Miss Leyton,” she said, “you don’t come here to insult me, and then leave before you have heard all I have to say to you! In the first place your assurance to-day is the first I ever heard of your being engaged to marry Captain Pullen. He didn’t take the trouble to make it public. He never mentioned you except to say what a cold, reserved, unpleasant nature you had, and how impossible it would be for a man with any human feeling to get on with you! That is what he thought! And he said it too, when he had his arm round my waist, and his face close to mine. And now he has come to England, I suppose he is afraid to carry on with me any more, for fear that you should hear of it! But I don’t mean to let him off so easily, I can tell you! He shall answer those letters, which you say he threw away in the grate, but which you are just as likely to have pilfered from his desk, before he is many days older!”