"But your insistance is useless."
"Eh? Hester, do not go too far—Remember—"
"What? What am I to remember?"
"That you—that I may enforce——"
An ironical laugh was her answer.
"Hester, you forget—I am here as your protector—you owe everything to me.—Be careful, I am willing to overlook a great deal——"
"Are you willing to quit the room?" she said, her eyes flashing as she spoke. "There is the door. May you never enter it again! Go! I command you! You insist—you enforce? And do you imagine that I am to give up my youth and beauty to age and folly—that I am to sacrifice myself, and to such as you, and then to be told that you insist! Undeceive yourself, Sir Chetsom. I am my own mistress. I follow my own caprices. My caprice once was to live with you. Now my caprice is to show you the door. Go! I owe you nothing. I have not sold myself. I have not bound myself. Go!—Why do you stand there gaping at me—do you not comprehend my words? or do you fancy that it is something so strange I should wish never to see you again? You imagine, perhaps, that I am not calm now, that I am unaware of what I do in relinquishing the protection of Sir Chetsom Chetsom? Undeceive yourself. If I am angry, I know perfectly what I do. I know the extent of my folly—shall I tell you what it is? It is that I ever listened to you! It is that I ever sullied my name by accepting your protection! Now, do you understand me?"
She sank in a chair, exhausted. Poor Sir Chetsom was troubled and confused. The scorn of her manner which lent such momentum to her words, quite crushed the feeling of anger which continually rose within him. She had often threatened to quit him; but never in such terms, and never seemed so earnest.
"My dear Hester," he said, submissively, taking a seat near her, "you have misunderstood me."
"I do not wish to understand you then."