He thrust it hastily in a breast-pocket of his overcoat, and accosted them with an insolent leer.
"How is the fair lady after her week's seclusion?" snarled he.
"Nothing bettered by this interruption to it," returned she, coming to a dead stop from sheer inability to support herself.
"Permit me," said the colonel, forcing Margaret to lean upon his arm, "this attack of agitation is so severe that I who have caused it should render my poor services in removing it."
He bent with an ogreish smile to look into her eyes.
"Leave me," breathed the wretched girl, attempting to wrench her hand from his grasp. "How dare you molest me sir?"
"Dear Margaret," sneered the man, bending near her dead white face, "why will you hold your slave at such a distance? I who hope to be co-heir of that goodly pile beyond us before this year is out? Ten days, my dearest—only ten days to wait, and then the month is out."
She could only look at him silently; her lips moved in haughty protest, but no words came to her aid; she walked by his side dumb as death.
The good old housekeeper kept by her other side and held her passive hand, comforting her in her kindly fashion by patting and pressing it, or the poor girl's terror would have overcome her altogether.
Suddenly Margaret ceased the struggle of attempting to draw her hand from his arm, and turned her averted face toward him.