"I won't listen to anything you have to say on the matter," he said, "and I will ask you to confine your talks to me to business matters; and when you must see me, go to the office."
"Ugh!" grunted old Dexter in reply, "she'll make you as ridiculous as she makes herself."
"Dexter," exclaimed Mr. Pembroke, "I think you're the worst villain unhung!"
"H'm, h'm, h'm," muttered Dexter, "you're a fool, Mat Pembroke. I think you're a fool!"
The front door closed loudly and Mr. Pembroke strode into the dining-room, where the young ladies were looking at each other with astonished eyes. Mr. Pembroke was flushed, and he bit his lip with added vexation as he noticed that his daughter and niece had heard the last words of his conversation with Dexter.
"I am sorry——" he began, his voice still shaking with anger. He did not complete his remark, but sat down and tried to eat.
After a moment Clara rose and put her arms softly about his neck.
"I am sorry, too, uncle dear," she said, "that you have so much trouble about me. Of course that vile man was speaking of me."
Mr. Pembroke shuddered violently at her first touch. He released her arms abruptly and stood up.