“And suppose you are right in your surmise—what then?” she demanded, proudly, a dangerous gleam in her eyes.
“In that case, I tell you that you are doomed to be terribly disappointed, for I swear that you shall never marry that upstart! He shall never have the privilege of handling one dollar of Adam Brewster’s fortune!” snarled the man, but so beside himself with rage his voice was hardly audible.
Allison was now thoroughly angry and disgusted.
She sprang to her feet and confronted her companion with haughty mien and blazing eyes.
“You are exceedingly presuming,” she began scornfully. “You are overstepping the bounds of your authority as my guardian, for I certainly have and shall exercise the right to choose for myself whom I will marry, and——”
“And what, Allison?” questioned John Hubbard, growing very white as she suddenly paused. “This is a matter that must be settled, here and now, so you may as well express yourself freely.”
“I was simply going to observe that my choice would certainly not fall upon yourself, even were I heart-whole,” she retorted, with startling candor, and driven to utter defiance by his arbitrary tone and manner.
The man flushed scarlet beneath the scathing words; then a lurid light sprang into his eyes.
“I am afraid you do not realize what you are doing, Miss Brewster, by so scornfully rejecting my suit,” he said, with an evident effort for self-control.
“You have driven me to plain speaking, sir,” Allison replied more calmly. “You would not accept my courteous rejection of your proposals, and you have made me very angry by your slighting remarks about Mr. Winchester, whom you have always appeared to hate, and whom you have also shamefully persecuted.”