My aunt chid me in a higher strain than ever she did before.
While I, in a half phrensy, insisted upon seeing my father; such usage, I said, set me above fear. I would rejoice to owe my death to him, as I did my life.
I did go down half way of the stairs, resolved to throw myself at his feet wherever he was.—My aunt was frighted. She owned, that she feared for my head.—Indeed I was in a perfect phrensy for a few minutes—but hearing my brother's voice, as talking to somebody in my sister's apartment just by, I stopt; and heard the barbarous designer say, speaking to my sister, This works charmingly, my dear Arabella!
It does! It does! said she, in an exulting accent.
Let us keep it up, said my brother.—The villain is caught in his own trap!—Now must she be what we would have her be.
Do you keep my father to it; I'll take care of my mother, said Bella.
Never fear, said he!—and a laugh of congratulation to each other, and derision of me (as I made it out) quite turned my frantic humour into a vindictive one.
My aunt then just coming down to me, and taking my hand led me up; and tried to sooth me.
My raving was turned into sullenness.
She preached patience and obedience to me.