“The same,” was answered, and woman and child disappeared from sight.
CHAPTER XIX.
THE BIRD AND THE SERPENT.
“You needn’t stand glowering upon me after that fashion, John Dyer!” said Adele, after Mrs. Fordham and the child had left the room. “I know you, sir!”
“Silence!” was the passionate response, and——
“Silence!” was repeated, though in feebler utterance, from the mother of Adele.
“That is a wicked woman!” said the girl, resolutely. “There is a serpent in her eyes. I saw it when she was last here; and it looks out with keener venom now. Mother, beware of her!—and—” she hesitated a moment, and then went on, in a bolder tone,—“beware of him! There is an adder in your path: one step more, and it will sting you to death!”
She pointed her finger steadily at Dyer, and stood gazing at him until his eyes fell in confusion. Then she passed from the room with rapid but noiseless feet, gliding away like a spirit.
“An enemy hath done this,” said Dyer, almost meekly, turning to the mother of Adele. “You have slumbered, I fear, and let the evil one scatter tares in your field.”
“I know not its meaning,” sighed Mrs. Weir. “This morning I noted the first signs of a perverse temper.”
“What were the signs?” Dyer looked sharply into her face, reading every changing lineament, as if he were scanning the pages of a book. There was slight confusion, and a moment’s hesitation, on the part of Mrs. Weir. She then answered,—