"And why should he not be provoked? Life gives me a great many trials. I should, myself, prefer another home; but if I am obliged to live here I am not going to speak or be silent according to Mr. Sandford's wishes, and I do not intend being a hypocrite."
"No one wishes you to be a hypocrite, but you need not say what you have to say disagreeably. You always make him angry, not so much by your words but by the way you speak the words."
"Mr. Sandford is a tyrant, and the more you give in to him the less you are likely to get. I hope I may never live to be as frightened and timid as you are!"
"I am not too timid to say what I think, if it is right to say it."
"Yes, you are! you look frightened, and that is enough for a man like your brother. Now I cannot really look frightened, because a man in a rage is to me a ridiculous object. It amuses me."
"I cannot help saying you have had one lesson! You once provoked my brother in such a way that you and Margaret went away, and poor Margaret has now to suffer; you might see that you do harm and not good;" and Mrs. Dorriman felt so angry she did not measure her words. "You do not suffer, but she does, and but for you, but for your way of speaking to my brother, she would be safe with us, poor child!"
She had effectually stopped her for the moment, and, herself moved by this statement in words of thoughts often present to her, she rose and left the room.
She had said nothing that Grace had not remorsefully said to herself, but the very truth in her speech made her angry.
She heard Mr. Sandford's voice. He was calling his sister's name. He met her on the stairs in tears.
She passed him quickly, and indignant, and in a mood full of irritability, he strode into the drawing-room to Grace.