“Why don’t you say that you will marry the man who finds your brother?” he said, bitterly.
“Eric, you go too far,” and she threw up her head.
“I go too far! Well, Mabel, since you have said that, I will tell you I think it is you to whom that would apply. You are ‘carrying on’—there is no other phrase for it, vulgar as it is—with that fellow Collins. You are always with him, and I can see by the way he looks at you that he is getting too fond of you. You have only known him for a short time.”
“That’s enough,” she interrupted. “You had better say no more or we shall come to a real quarrel. I think you better go as you have suggested, and you can think things over. I am going to see how my aunt is,” and she went out without another word.
“Curse the fellow,” said Sanders. “What does he mean by foisting himself here, and staying on. He’s trying to cut me out with his damnable polite manners. And she’s everything in the world to me.”
Chapter XII.
What Happened in the Night
The incident of the day had cast a gloom over the party.
Mabel’s aunt had been in bed all the day, with one of her sick headaches. Collins was down before the others, and had a word with old John. The old servant was devoted to him.
“I hope you got over your scare,” said he.
“Oh, yes, thank you, sir, but it frightened me at the time. But you were probably right. I have been thinking about the master a lot lately.”