"Didn't I tell you that he tried to beat me out of the money? Why do you set up a mere opinion against my experience? And why are you so much inclined to take his part? Tell me that. You can't be interested in him?"
"I don't want injustice done him."
"Oh, no; but you would submit to the injustice he does you. He has robbed you of the society of your younger acquaintances—he compels you to sit almost excluded in a town where you are an acknowledged belle. Young gentlemen are afraid to call on you."
"Well, I don't know that it would be exactly proper," she replied.
"And," he went on, lifting his voice, "the strangest part of it is that you quietly submit to this treatment when there is a way to free yourself. And I request you to make use of it."
He got up, went to the mantel-piece, took up a sea-shell, put it down, turned his back to the fire place, stood there a moment and strode out.
"You must do as he commands," said the mother.
"I can't."
"Don't say that. You must. I have thought it over, and I know it's for the best."
"You have permitted him to think it over, and you hope it is for the best," the daughter replied.