"I was alone."
"And is that what you call resignation?" said Caroline, in a tone of reproof. "I hope you will not give way to your poor mother's disposition."
"We mistake each other," said Mabel, rising, while her pale cheek kindled, her head was proudly and firmly erect, and her eyes almost flashed fire.
Caroline quailed; an uneasy sensation of something like fear stole upon her.
"Perhaps," said she, her voice trembling with suppressed passion, "we mistake our respective positions."
"We do," said Mabel.
Caroline would have been glad to relieve herself by some bitter speech, but she felt powerless, and, endeavouring to hide her own discomfiture, she swept indignantly from the room, saying that she had never believed in perfect tempers, and she would have nothing to do with people who tried to appear better than they were.
Mabel continued standing, her bosom heaving with emotion.
"I could have borne any thing but that—any reflection on myself," she exclaimed, half aloud, "but to speak so of my poor mother, I cannot bear. Ha—" she added, slightly startling on perceiving Hargrave, who had entered by another door, and who was standing by her.
Their eyes met for an instant and then hers sought the ground.