Florence Douglas looked at him with distrust. Was this a threat, or how should she interpret it?
"It is convenient, Mr. Orton Campbell," she retorted with spirit, "to charge with madness those who oppose us. At home I felt afraid of your threats: here I am secure."
He thought that perhaps he had gone too far, since the young lady was independent of him, and it was not certain that he could gain possession of her.
"Miss Douglas," he said, "I have already told you that you have taken an unwise step. There is one way to remedy it, and I hope I may be able to induce you to take it. Let me assure you that I have called upon you as a friend, as a warm friend, as one who seeks to be something more than a friend."
"Let me urge you to consent to an immediate marriage with me, and to accompany me home on the next steamer. My father will receive you as a daughter, and never allude to your flight."
"I suppose I ought to thank you for your disinterested proposal, Mr. Campbell, but I can only tell you that you ask what is entirely out of the question. This is final. Allow me to wish you good-morning."
"But, Miss Douglas—"
She did not turn back nor heed these last words, and Orton Campbell found himself alone.
He rose slowly from his seat, and an evil look came into his eyes. "She has not done with me yet," he muttered as he left the house.