She still hesitated. Mrs. Gallilee tried gentle remonstrance. “My child, surely you are not afraid of me?”
She was certainly afraid. But she controlled herself.
“You are Ovid’s mother, and I am only his cousin,” she resumed. “I don’t like to hear you say that my influence over him is greater than yours.”
It was far from the poor girl’s intention; but there was an implied rebuke in this. In her present state of irritation, Mrs. Gallilee felt it.
“Come! come!” she said. “Don’t affect to be ignorant, my dear, of what you know perfectly well.”
Carmina lifted her head. For the first time in the experience of the two elder women, this gentle creature showed that she could resent an insult. The fine spirit that was in her fired her eyes, and fixed them firmly on her aunt.
“Do you accuse me of deceit?” she asked.
“Let us call it false modesty,” Mrs. Gallilee retorted.
Carmina rose without another word—and walked out of the room.
In the extremity of her surprise, Mrs. Gallilee appealed to Miss Minerva. “Is she in a passion?”