“We shall not quarrel, but I shall have my way; meanwhile go to your room, and stay there until told that I have sent for you.”
They went to the house together, but separated in the hall; Maddy going to her room, while Guy sought Mrs. Agnes. The moment she saw his face she knew a storm was coming, but was not prepared for the biting sarcasm and bitter reproaches heaped upon her by one who, when roused, was a perfect hurricane.
“Perhaps you have forgotten that you were once a school teacher yourself,” he said, “and before that time mercy knows what you were—a hired girl, perhaps; your present airs would seem to warrant as much!”
Guy was in a sad passion by this time, and failed to note the effect his last words had on Agnes, who turned livid with rage and terror; but smothering down her wrath, she said, beseechingly:
“Pray, Guy, do not be so angry; I know I am foolish about some things, and proud people who ‘come up’ always are, I guess; I know that marrying your father made me what I am, but everybody does not know it, and it is not necessary they should. I don’t remember exactly what I did say to this Clyde girl, but I thought it would be pleasanter for you, pleasanter for us all, not to have her always round; it seems she has presided at the table when Dr. Holbrook was here to tea, and even you can’t think that quite right.”
“I don’t know why,” and at mention of Dr. Holbrook Guy’s temper burst out again. “Agnes, you can’t deceive me; I know the secret of your abominable treatment of Maddy Clyde is jealousy.”
“Guy—jealousy! I jealous of that child?” and Agnes’s voice was expressive of the utmost consternation.
“Yes, jealous of that child; you think that because the doctor has been kind to her, perhaps he wants her sometime for his wife. I hope he does; I mean to help it on; I’ll tell him to marry her, and if he don’t, I’ll almost marry her myself!” and Guy paced up and down the parlor, chafing and foaming like a young lion.
Agnes was conquered, and quite as much bewildered as Maddy had been she heard only in part how Maddy Clyde was henceforth to be treated.
“Yes, yes,” she gasped at last, as Guy talked on, “stop now, for mercy’s sake, and I’ll do anything, only not this morning, my head aches so I cannot go to the breakfast table; I must be excused,” and holding her temples, which were throbbing with pain, induced by strong excitement, Agnes hurried to her own room and threw herself upon the bed, angry, mortified, and subdued.