“I do. I would die first!” cried Linny.
“My poor child,” he said sadly, “there is no need. I can read it in your transparent little face. You thought, I believe, in the first hot sting of your wrong that night, that you had plucked this foolish love from your breast; and so long as he remained silent you were at rest. But now he writes to you and says—”
“Hush, Stephen! You shall not before Antony Grace.”
“Why not?” he cried. “He says in this letter that he has been wretched ever since; that he begs your pardon for the past; that upon your forgiveness depends his future; and he implores you, by all you hold sacred, to grant him an interview, that he may be forgiven.”
“Stephen!” cried Linny, but he went mercilessly on.
“And the foolish, trusting little heart, unused to the wiles of this world, leaped at the words, forgave him on the instant, and a brother’s words, her own promises, the vows of amendment, all are forgotten,” he said angrily, as his face now grew white and his hands clenched, “and all for the sake of a man who is an utter scoundrel!”
“How dare you!” cried Linny, and the hot passionate blood flashed to her little cheeks. Her eyes flamed, her teeth were set, and, in an access of rage, she struck her brother across the lips with the back of her hand. “How dare you call him a scoundrel?” she cried.
“Because,” said Hallett—while I stood by, unutterably shocked by the scene, which was the more intense from the low voices in which brother and sister spoke, they being in unison on the point that Mrs Hallett should not hear their quarrel—“because,” said Hallett, “his conduct is that of a villain. While professing love for you, he insults you. He tells you you are more dear to him than life, and he skulks like a thief and does not show his face. If he loved you—”
“Love! What do you know of love?” cried Linny passionately. “You—you cold-blooded groveller, without soul to worship anything greater than that!”
As she spoke, she stood with her head thrown back, looking the picture of scorn and rage, as she contemptuously pointed at poor Hallett’s model; while he, weak, nervous, and overwrought—stung almost to madness, caught her sharply by the shoulder, and in her fear she sank on her knees at his feet.