Part 88 (2/2)
”I should think not,” with a sneer on her part that sinks his into insignificance. ”I married you to escape from my uncle, who was making me wretched! But not”--with an ireful glance at him--_”half_ as wretched as _you_ have made me!”
Rylton shrugs his shoulders. You should never shrug your shoulders when a woman is angry.
”Yes, wretched--wretched!” says t.i.ta, angry tears flooding her eyes.
”There was never _any_ one so miserable as I have been since I married you.”
”That makes it all the more unfortunate that you are married to me still,” says Rylton icily.
”I may be married to you--I shan't live with you,” says t.i.ta.
”We shall see to that,” says Rylton, who has lost his head a little.
”Yes, _I_ shall,” returns she, with open defiance.
Meantime Margaret, who had been crushed by that first onslaught on her, has recovered herself a little. To appeal to t.i.ta again is useless; but to Maurice--she _must_ say a word of entreaty to Maurice. t.i.ta has been most unjust, but men are of n.o.bler make.
Maurice will understand.
”I think,” says she very gently, catching his eye, ”that it would be better for you to--to discuss all this--with t.i.ta--alone. I shall go, but I beg of you, Maurice, to----”
”Pray don't beg anything of me,” says Maurice, turning upon her with an expression that bodes no good to anyone. ”I should think you ought to be the last person in the world to ask a favour of me.”
”Good gracious! what have I done now?” exclaims Margaret shrinking back, and cut to the heart by this fresh affront.
”You knew she was there, behind that screen, and you never gave me even a hint about it. A hint would have been sufficient, but----”
”I did!” says Margaret, driven to bay. ”I told you I had a headache, and that you were to go away--but you wouldn't!”
”You told me you had twenty diseases, but even that wouldn't exonerate you from letting her hear what was not meant for her ears.”
”Ah! I'm glad you acknowledge even _so_ much,” breaks in t.i.ta vindictively.
”Even though they weren't meant for your ears I'm glad you heard them,” says Rylton, turning to her with all the air of one who isn't going to give in at _any_ price. ”But as for you, Margaret, I did not expect this from you. I believed you stanch, at all events, and honest; yet you deliberately let me say what was in my mind, _knowing_ there was an unseen listener who would be sure to make the worst of all she heard.”
”t.i.ta, _you_ shall explain this!” says Margaret, turning with a tragic gesture towards her. ”Speak. Tell him.”
”What is the good of telling him anything?” says t.i.ta, regarding her coldly. ”Yet though you have forsaken me, Margaret, I will do as you wish.” She turns to Rylton. ”It was against Margaret's wish that I hid behind that screen. I heard you coming, and there was no way out of the room except by the door through which you would enter, and rather than meet you I felt”--with a sudden flash of her large eyes at him--”I would willingly die. So I got behind that screen, and--and” She pauses. ”Well, that's all,” says she.
”You see it was not my fault,” says Margaret.
She lets a pa.s.sing glance fall on Rylton, and with an increase of dignity in her air leaves the room. The two left behind look strangely at each other.
”So you were listening?” says Rylton. ”Listening all that time?”
”You wrong me as usual. I was _not_ listening all the time. I didn't want to listen at all. Do you think I ever wanted to hear your voice again?”
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