“What excuse can you give,” she asked in an unsteady voice, “for your behavior with that child to-night?”
“None whatever,” answered Freke, coolly. “I am not bound to justify myself to you, nor do I admit there was anything to be excused.”
“You are right in saying you are not bound to justify yourself to me,” said Judith; “but can you justify yourself to her father and mother? You see how she is. You know what they—what we all—think of you. You are a married man, remember.”
“Am I?” asked Freke, laughing. “By Jove, I wish I knew whether I was or not!”
“What right have you to fill Jacqueline’s head with dreams and notions? The child was well enough until you came. Why can’t you go away and leave her in peace?”
Freke smiled at this. “I don’t feel like going away,” he said, “and particularly now that I see you wish me to go. I have rather different plans in view now that I have bought property here. It doesn’t look well for a man to be cast off by his relations; and I intend to have, if I can, the backing of the Temples.”
“But how long, think you, could you stay, if the child’s mother knew of your behavior to-night?”
“That I don’t know. But I wish to stay, Madam Judith; and, since you are so prudish, I will promise you not look at Jacqueline again. Will that satisfy you?”
“I will first see how you keep your promise. But I warn you, Freke, if you remain here much longer, I shall use all the influence in my power to get you out of this house. You are no advantage to the child. It would be better for her if you went away and never came back.”