“It would not be so strange a thing if you were; Editha has a pretty penny of her own; but let me tell you not a dollar of it will you get more than you have already got,” he snapped, savagely, and with a scowl at his daughter, as he thus referred to her defiance of him regarding Richard Forrester’s legacy to Earle.
“I have never touched that money, sir, nor do I ever intend to do so; and it seems to me as if that fact alone should convince you that I am no fortune-hunter,” the young man said, flushing with disgust that such a motive should be imputed to him.
“That is a very pretty theory, and doubtless wins that silly girl’s warmest admiration, as being so disinterested and noble in you; when, if you should be so fortunate as to succeed in your designs to marry her, you would have the handling of the whole,” was the sarcastic rejoinder.
“Sir, if you were any other than Editha’s father you would be made to repent of and apologize for those words.”
Earle’s eyes emitted glances of fire, and his clenched hands and heaving chest showed how hard it was for him to refrain from bestowing the chastisement the evil-minded man so richly merited.
A sardonic grin for a moment distorted Mr. Dalton’s features at these words; but, turning to Editha, who at that last insult to her lover had risen and now stood at his side, white and quivering with pain and indignation, he said, in low, concentrated tones:
“Remember, if you dare to defy me in this matter as you did in the other, my secret and my hate shall crush you both.”
Then, without another word, he turned and left the room.
CHAPTER XVI
THE PARTING
“Oh, Earle, what can he mean? For the first time in my life I am actually afraid of my own father,” Editha said, sinking back upon the sofa from which she had so recently arisen, and bursting into nervous weeping.