“Let me tell you,” cried Leon, stammering in his passion “let me tell you that I associate with the proudest in the land.”
“I know that,” replied Edith, quietly. “Am I not here! But you are only tolerated.”
“Miss Dalton,” cried Leon, “you shall suffer for this.”
“Thank you,” said Edith: “for once in your life you have spoken to me without insulting me. You have called me by my right name. I could smile at your threat under any circumstances, but now I can forgive it.”
“It seems to me,” growled Leon, “that you are riding the high horse somewhat, and that this is a rather queer tone for you to assume toward me.”
“I always assume a high tone toward low people.”
“Low people! What do you mean!” cried Leon, his face purple with rage.
“I really don't know any name better than that for you and your friends.”
“The name of Dudleigh,” said Leon, “is one of the proudest in the land.”
{Illustration: SHE CONFRONTED HIM WITH A COLD, STONY GLARE.}