So soon as Lady Ravensworth was dressed, Lydia Hutchinson said in a cool but authoritative tone, "Adeline, you will comb out my hair for me now."
"Provoke me not, vile woman—provoke me not beyond the powers of endurance!" almost shrieked the unhappy lady; "or I shall be tempted—oh! I shall be tempted to lay violent hands upon you. My God—my God! what will become of me?"
"I am prepared to stand the risk of any ebullition of fury on your part," said Lydia, in the same imperturbable manner in which she had before spoken. "Lay but a finger upon me to do me an injury, and I will attack you—I will assault you—I will disfigure your countenance with my nails—I will tear out your hair by handfuls—I will beat your teeth from your mouth;—for I am stronger than you—and you would gain nothing by an attempt to hurt me."
"But I will not be your servant!" cried Adeline, fire flashing from her eyes.
"I tended your ladyship when you lay upon the humble couch in my garret, in the agonies of maternity," replied Lydia; "and your ladyship shall now wait upon me."
"No—no! You would make me a slave—a low slave—the lowest of slaves!" ejaculated Adeline, wildly. "You degrade me in my own estimation—you render me contemptible in my own eyes——"
"And you have spurned and scorned me," interrupted Lydia; "you have made me, too, the lowest of slaves, by using me as an instrument to save you from shame;—and now it is time that I should teach you—the proud peeress—that I—the humble and friendless woman—have my feelings, which may be wounded as well as your own."
"Lydia—I beg you—I implore you—on my knees I beseech you to have mercy upon me!" cried Adeline, clasping her hands together in a paroxysm of ineffable anguish, and falling at the feet of the stern and relentless woman whom she had wronged.
"I can know no mercy for you!" said Lydia Hutchinson, now speaking in a deep and almost hoarse tone, which denoted the powerful concentration of her vengeful passions. "When I think of all that I have suffered—when I trace my miseries to their source—and remember how happy I might have been in the society of a fond father and a loving brother,—when I reflect that it was you—you who led me astray, and having blighted all my prospects—demanding even the sacrifice of my good name to your interests,—thrust me away from you with scorn,—when I ponder upon all this, it is enough to drive me mad;—and yet you ask for mercy! No—never, never! I cannot pity you—for I hate, I abhor you!"
"Do not talk so fearfully, Lydia—good Lydia!" cried Adeline, in a voice of despair, while she endeavoured to take the hands of her servant, at whose feet she still knelt.