“Look, look, look!” he cried, flourishing his whip over his head, clapping spurs to his horse, and trampling the beds, walks, and lawn alike, and finishing by making his horse leap high and still higher shrubs. He finished by fixing his eye upon the greenhouse, as if he contemplated a leap there too.
“Mr. Waldie,” said Letitia, in her steadiest tone, “what are you doing?”
In a moment he was off, had flung the bridle on the neck of the sweating and trembling horse, and was by her side, swearing deep oaths that she had ever governed his life and ever should govern it. With her in wealth, as with her in poverty, he would....
Maria had rushed into the house upon this, but not the less did Letitia by eye, and gesture, and word, command him from her, and prevail for the moment. He obeyed when she pointed his way into the house, and she was still standing, faint in body and spirit, with the poor children clinging to her, when Thérèse came in from the road, breathless, and sinking with terror. When she saw the children safe, she burst into tears: she had feared that she might have to answer for their lives, from not having had presence of mind to evade Waldie’s vehement desire that the children should have a ride.—Her mistress gave her a few directions, which she hastened into the house to execute, and Letitia, after giving the servants a charge to take the children into the nursery and keep them there, repaired to her sister. She found Maria lying across the bed, groaning in heart-breaking grief.
“Sister!” said she, gently, after watching silently beside her for a few moments—“Sister, your husband wants you. He is ill, fearfully ill; and who should tend him but you?—Nay; why this despair? A brain fever ... all may be well....”
“Letitia; do not deceive me. It is mockery to attempt it.”
“Maria, if I wished to deceive you, I dare not. What I have done will prove this. Thérèse is packing up, and I am going in half an hour. It grieves me to leave you; but I must go.”
“O yes, yes; you must go.”
At this moment, there was a tremendous knocking at the room door, which was luckily fastened. It was Waldie, still calling upon Letitia, who would not answer. Maria dared not. The knocking went on till there seemed some probability of the door giving way, when, perhaps from having his attention diverted by the servants, the madman quitted his object, and ran down stairs.
“Yes, yes: you must go,” repeated Maria, bitterly.