“Oh, this is too much,” cried Mrs. Curtis. “I came to give you advice for your good—for Arthur’s sake; and this is how you receive it! I wanted to help you if I could.”
“I did not ask anyone’s help,” said Nancy, defiant, facing them, always with her back to the light, invisible except as a shadow. Her heart beat so that every vein felt bursting. She had but one desire in her mind, and that was to rush off without stopping to see Arthur, without giving anyone the opportunity of insulting her further, and fly home as fast as the fastest train would carry her. What were the Curtises to Nancy? How could she bear this from anyone, to be schooled and dictated to, she who had never been scolded even at home, who had never been found fault with, whose whole being rose up in arms against anyone who ventured to criticise? There are people in all classes who are thus intolerant of a word, not to be interfered with, whom it is mortal offence to think less than perfect. She felt as if the blood in her veins had turned to fire.
“Mamma,” said Mary, “Mrs. Arthur is quite right. We have no business to come here into her own rooms, and tell her what she ought to do. She knows better what to do than we can tell her. Why should you interfere?”
“Because Mrs. Arthur is young, and does not know, Mary, and it is her duty to listen when one speaks for her good,” said Mrs. Curtis, furious in her turn. “But you need not be afraid, I will not say any more. I will only bid you good morning, Mrs. Arthur. It is no object to me what you do, or don’t do. If I could have smoothed matters I would; but I will not force my good offices upon you. I hope you will make your husband very happy, for otherwise I am sure he will be very miserable. He was always on such good terms with his family, and now you have made a complete breach.”
“Will you go away?” cried Nancy, wild with anger.
She made a step forward with her arm lifted. It is not likely that any provocation would have made her strike; but if the two ladies, alarmed, thought she was about to do so, no one could blame them. This appearance of violence appalled them. Such a threatening aspect in a woman was so foreign to the customs of society, so tremendous a breach of all decorum, that actual blows would have had no greater effect upon them. They both retreated before her, with alarm in their startled movements. Nancy could not see their faces, nor could they see hers.
“Indeed, we will go,” cried Mrs. Curtis, with tones which were tremulous with wonder and anger, and the kind of moral fright which has been indicated.
Mary had got her hand upon the door to open it, when some one suddenly pushed in from outside, and Arthur came into the room.
“What is the matter?” he cried.
All he could see was his wife against the light of the window, threatening, with her arm raised as if in the act to strike.