Flea raised herself on her knees to bring her eyes on a level with her companion's. Her young face darkened.
"You are not foolish or a nobody. You would be foolish if you were to marry that meanest, cruelest, hardest-hearted of all men. And you would be a nobody—worse than a nobody—when once he had you in his power. Your brothers can tell you how he used to whip the boys and ferule the girls' hands until they were blistered, and he grinning all the time. He tortures people for the love of torturing. He is a bully, and a coward, and a demon."
"Are you calling Mr. Tayloe all those names?" interposed the listener, tartly.
"Yes, Miss Em—"
Before she could utter another syllable her idol drew away to get a better reach, and slapped her with all her might, first upon one cheek, then upon the other, until her astonished ears rang like an alarm-bell, then pushed her off so violently that she fell backward to the ground. Springing up, wild with shock and horror of it all, she faced a red-haired fury with glaring eyes and distorted features.
"You impudent, low-lived minx!" said tones as vulgar as those of a scolding negress. "You ought to be tied up and whipped until you take back every word you have said. Who are you that you come here to insult a gentleman in a lady's hearing? This comes of my taking notice of a low-down overseer's daughter, who is meaner than the dirt under my feet! Begone! and if you ever show your face here again I'll set the dogs on you!"
Flea did not quite know where she was or what she was doing until she found herself in the saddle, gathering up the reins, and telling the negro who had brought the horse up to the inner gate for her to "tell Mr. Grigsby he would find her waiting for him under the big oak-tree on the road."
She managed to get the words out without breaking down, and galloped along the avenue as if the dogs were already on her heels.
Her father rejoined her in less than half an hour. She sat motionless upon the horse under the tree. The reins lay upon the docile animal's neck, and he was grazing in quiet satisfaction, unnoticed by his mistress. Mr. Grigsby must have remarked her white face and swollen eyes had he been less engrossed in his own thoughts.
"Ready, lassie?" was all he said, and "Yes, father," was her only reply.