She did come in, that is, she came as far as the door mat. Then she turned, not to him, but to his companion.
"What do you mean by speaking in that way of my mother?" she demanded.
Esther was still a trifle off balance. Her answer was rather incoherent.
"I—I don't know's I—as I said—as I said much of anything—much," she stammered.
"I heard you. How dare you tell such—such lies?"
"Lies?"
"Yes; mean, miserable lies. What else are they? How dare you run to—to him with them?"
Mrs. Tidditt's hand, that grasping the handle of the molasses pitcher, began to quiver. Her eyes, behind her steel-rimmed spectacles, winked rapidly.
"Elizabeth Berry," she snapped, with ominous emphasis, "don't you talk to me like that!"
"I shall talk to you as—as.... Oh, I should be ashamed to talk to you at all. My mother—my kind, trustful, unsuspecting mother! And you—you and he dare——"