CHAPTER XXIX.
THE RIVALS.
"All other passions have their hour of thinking,
And hear the voice of reason. This alone
Breaks at the first suspicion into frenzy,
And sweeps the soul in tempests."—Shakespeare.
or a moment the rivals stood silently confronting each other—Celeste pale and trembling before that dark, passionate glance; Minnette white and rigid, but with scorching, burning eyes.
"Minnette, what is the matter?" said Celeste, at last finding voice. "Good heavens! you look as though you were crazed."
"Crazed!" hissed Minnette through her teeth. "You consummate little hypocrite! Your conduct, no doubt, should make me very cool and composed. Girl, I say to you, beware! Better for you you had never been born, than live to cross my path!"
Her voice was hoarse with concentrated passion—her small hands clenched until the nails sank into the quivering flesh. With a shudder, Celeste covered her face in her hands to shut out the scathing glance of those dark, gleaming eyes.
"Oh, Minnette!—dear Minnette!—do not look at me so. Your eyes kill me," she said, with a shiver.
"Would to Heaven they could!" fiercely exclaimed Minnette.