"You disapprove of me, you dare to disapprove of me for her!" Bennet continued. "Surely I am as good as your son!" he exclaimed with violence, "the son of a thief!"
"Gilbert is as honest as the day," said Eversleigh, stung into speech.
"I know nothing about that," cried Bennet, scornfully. "But this is all beside the mark. Gilbert is nothing to me; why should I consider him? He stands between me and Kitty Thornton, and it will be your part to remove him from my path."
"How am I to do it? How am I to do it?" wailed Eversleigh.
Bennet regarded him with contempt.
"That lies with you," he said pitilessly. "I have already made that quite clear. And you must speak to Miss Thornton and tell her—oh, tell her anything, but tell her that she must marry me."
"Suppose I did tell her that, do you imagine that it would weigh with her, if it was not backed by some very strong, some overwhelming reason?" asked Eversleigh, struggling to speak calmly with the young man. "And what reason can I give? I cannot perform impossibilities. Surely you must admit that?"
"I admit nothing," snarled Bennet viciously.
The two men looked at each other; Eversleigh's face bore a hopeless and beaten expression, Bennet's was savage and implacable.
For a space there was silence between them.