He tossed a gold piece at her feet, and Celine picked it up, curtsying and smiling. Little Golden, standing apart from them, regarded the scene with horror and disgust.
Mr. Desmond, turning suddenly to her, quailed at the look of fiery scorn in the beautiful, spirited young face.
"Are you very angry with me, Mary?" he inquired in a subdued voice.
"No words can do justice to my contempt for you," she replied, in a voice of cutting scorn. "How dared you maltreat and insult me so? Shame on you for your cruelty to a poor and helpless girl!"
She was so beautiful in her anger that he could scarcely remove his gaze from her face. Her cheeks were scarlet, her eyes were darkened and dilated with anger, her lovely lips were curled disdainfully. He read the proud purity of her young soul in every haughty movement of her lithe young figure and clenched, white hands.
He regarded her in silence a moment, then exclaimed with apparent frankness:
"Mary, I will tell you the truth, and then you will be able to pardon my conduct. My wife told me that she had engaged you totally without recommendation, and we both were afraid that we had run too great a risk in intrusting our little darling to your care. I determined therefore to test you. I have done so, and I am delighted to find that your principles and your virtue are so steadfast and true. Are you willing to grant me your pardon after this explanation?"
At this specious apology the simple girl looked from the hypocrite's anxious face to that of the maid.
Celine being a woman, she reasoned, would tell her whether to accept this explanation or not.
The artful maid gave her an encouraging smile.