“I have nothing else to give you,” she replied coldly.
He gasped again. Refused by the Bonamy girl! He had never thought of this. He was beside himself with astonishment and anger, with disappointment and wounded pride. “You would not have said this a month ago!” he cried at last. “It was a pity I did not ask you then!”
“I should have given you the same answer.”
“Oh, no,” he replied ironically, swinging his hat to and fro. “Oh, no, you would not—not at all, Miss Bonamy. You would have sung to a very different tune if I had whistled to you before this niminy-piminy parson showed his face here! Do not think that I am such a fool as not to see which way the wind is blowing.”
She stood looking at him in silence. But her face was scarlet, and her hand shook with rage.
He saw it. “Pooh! do not think to frighten me!” he said coarsely. “When a man has offered to marry you he has a right to speak his mind! It will be a long time, I warrant you, before your parson will have the same right to speak. He was very great with you once, but he has quite another set of friends now, and I have not heard of him offering to introduce you to them.”
“Will you go, Dr. Gregg?” she cried passionately, pointing to the door. His taunts were torture to her. “Will you go, or do you wish to stay and insult me further?”
“I wish to say one thing, and I am going to say it,” he replied, nodding triumphantly. “You are pretty proud of your capture, but you need not be. He will not be much of a match when we have stripped him of the living he has no right to, and shown him the detected swindler he is! Wait! Wait a little, Miss Bonamy, and when your parson is ruined, as he will be before three months are out, high as he holds his head now, perhaps you will be sorry that you did not take my offer. Why,” he added scornfully, “I should say you are the only person in the parish who does not know he has no more right where he is than I have.”
“Go!” she said, pointing to the door. Her face was white now.
“So I will when I have said one more word——”