“Abstain from threats,” said Lady Rachel, shutting the window, and fastening the sash.
Lady Carse doubled her fist, as if about to dash in a pane; but the iron gates behind her creaked on their hinges, and she turned her head. A chair was entering, on each side of which walked a footman, whose livery Lady Carse well knew. Her handsome face, red before, was now more flushed. She put her mouth close to the window, and said, “If it had been anybody but Lovat you would not have been rid of me this evening. I would have stood among the chairmen till midnight for the chance of getting in. Be sure I shall to-morrow, or some day. But now I am off.” She darted past the chair, her face turned away, just as Lord Lovat was issuing from it.
“Ho! ho!” cried he, in a loud and mocking tone. “Ho, there! my Lady Carse! A word with you!” But she ran up the Wynd as fast as she could go.
“You should not look so white upon it,” Lord Lovat observed to Lady Rachel, as soon as the door was shut. “Why do you let her see her power over you?”
“God knows!” replied Lady Rachel. “But it is not her threats alone that make us nervous. It is the being incessantly subject—”
She cleared her throat; but she could not go on.
Lord Lovat swore that he would not submit to be tormented by a virago in this way. If Lady Carse were his wife—
“Well! what would you do?” asked Lady Rachel.
“I would get rid of her. I tell your brother so. I would get rid of her in one way, if she threatened to get rid of me in another. She may have learned from her father how to put her enemies out of the way.”