"You rebel, eh?" Gordon spoke out furiously.
It was their first clash since the marriage. Mrs. Gordon looked on, torn between loyalty to her husband and a desire to protect her daughter. She was searching her mind painfully for the compromise, the half-truth that was her remedy for every moral distress. At length she said, placatingly:
"I'm sure Natalie will help you in any way she can, Curtis. She isn't rebellious, she merely doesn't understand."
"She doesn't need to understand. It is enough that I direct her—" As Natalie turned and walked silently to the window he stifled an oath. "Have I no authority?" he stormed. "Do you mean to obey?"
"Wait!" Gloria laid a restraining hand on his arm. "Perhaps I can learn what you want to know. Mr. O'Neil was very kind—"
Her daughter whirled, with white face and flashing eyes.
"Mother!" she gasped.
"Our loyalty begins at home," said Gloria, feebly.
"Oh-h! I can't conceive of your—of such a thing. If you have no decency, I have. I'm sorry I spoke, but—if you DARE to do such a thing I shall warn Mr. O'Neil that you are a spy." She turned a glance of loathing on Gordon. "I see," she said, quietly. "You used me as a tool. You lied about your feeling toward him. You meant harm to him all the time." She faced the window again.
"Lied!" he shouted. "Be careful—that's pretty strong language. Don't try me too far, or you may find yourself adrift once more. I have been too patient. But I have other ways of finding out what I wish to know, and I shall verify what you have told me." He strode angrily from the room, leaving Natalie staring out upon the bleak fall scene, her shoulders very straight, her breast heaving. Gloria did not venture to address her.