“Tell me this instant, or leave my house, ungrateful boy!” she exclaimed passionately; and, casting an imploring look at her, I saw that she was pointing towards the door.
I would have given the world to have obeyed her; but there seemed to be something so cowardly, so mean and despicable, in standing there and accusing John Lister before the face of his affianced wife, that, with a piteous look, I slowly turned towards the door.
It was terrible to me to be driven away like that, and I felt my heart swell with bitterness; but I could not speak, and as I once more looked in her pitiless eyes, she was still pointing at the door.
The handle was already in my hand, and, giddy and despairing, I should have gone, had not Miriam Carr’s clear voice rang out loudly:
“Stop!”
Then, as I turned:
“Come here, Antony!” and the pointing finger was there no longer, but two extended hands, which I ran across the room and seized, struggling hard to keep back the emotion that was striving for exit, for I was but a boy.
“My dear Miriam—” began John Lister once more.
“Mr Lister,” she said, and her voice was very low and stern, as she placed one arm round my waist and laid her right hand upon my shoulder, “will you have the goodness to leave my house?”
“My dear Miriam, pray be reasonable!” he exclaimed. “That foolish boy has got some crotchet into his head. It is all a silly blunder, which I can explain in a few words. I assure you it is all a mistake.”