Part 27 (1/2)
”That you can never do!” and the beautiful girl proudly faced the woman with such an undaunted air and look that she involuntarily quailed before her. ”It is my nature,” she went on, after a slight pause, ”to be gentle and yielding in all things reasonable, and when I am kindly treated; but injustice and treachery, such as you have been guilty of, always arouse within me a spirit which a thousand like you and your brother could never bend nor break.”
”Do not be too sure, my pretty young Tartar,” retorted madam, with a disagreeable sneer.
”I rejected Monsieur Correlli's proposals to me some weeks ago,” Edith resumed, without heeding the rude interruption. ”I made him clearly understand, and you also, that I could never marry him. You appeared to accept the situation only to scheme for my ruin; but, even though you have tricked me into compromising myself in the presence of many witnesses, it was only a trick, and therefore no legal marriage. At least I do not regard myself as morally bound; and, as I have said before, I shall appeal to the courts to annul whatever tie there may be supposed to exist. This is my irrevocable decision--nothing can change it--nothing will ever swerve me a hair's breadth from it. Go tell your brother, and then let me alone--I will never renew the subject with either of you.”
And as Edith ceased she turned her resolute face to the window, and Anna G.o.ddard knew that she had meant every word that she had uttered.
She was amazed by this show of spirit and decision.
The girl had always been a perfect model of gentleness and kindness, ready to do whatever was required of her, obliging and invariably sweet-tempered.
She could hardly realize that the cold, determined, defiant, undaunted sentences to which she had just listened could have fallen from the lips of the mild, quiet Edith whom she had hitherto known.
But, as may be imagined, such an att.i.tude from one who had been a servant to her was not calculated to soothe her ruffled feelings, and after the first flash of astonishment, anger got the better of her.
”Do you imagine you can defy us thus?” she cried, laying an almost brutal grip upon the girl's arm, as she arose to abandon, for the time, her apparently fruitless task. ”No, indeed! You will find to your cost that you have stronger wills than your own to cope with.”
With these hot words, Anna G.o.ddard swept angrily from the room, leaving her victim alone.
CHAPTER XIX.
”I WILL NEVER BREAK BREAD WITH YOU, AT ANY TABLE.”
As the door closed after the angry and baffled woman, the portly form of the housekeeper entered the room from an apartment adjoining, where, as had been previously arranged between Edith and herself, she had been stationed to overhear the whole of the foregoing conversation.
”What can I do?” sighed the young girl, wearily, and lifting an anxious glance to her companion; for, in spite of her apparent calmness throughout the recent interview, it had been a terrible strain upon her already shattered nerves.
”Nothing just yet, dear, but to try and get well and strong as soon as possible,” cheerfully responded Mrs. Weld.
”Did you hear how she threatened me?”
”Yes, but her threats were only so many idle words--they cannot harm you; you need not fear them.”
”But I do; somehow, I am impressed that they are plotting even greater wrongs against me,” sighed Edith, who, now that the necessity of preserving a bold front was pa.s.sed, seemed to lose her courage.
”They will not dare--” began Mrs. Weld, with some excitement. Then, suddenly checking herself, she added, soothingly: ”But do not worry any more about it now, child--you never need 'cross a bridge until you come it.' Lie down and rest a while; it will do you good, and maybe you will catch a little nap, while I go down to see that everything is moving smoothly in the dining-room and kitchen.”
Edith was only too willing to heed this sensible advice, and, shortly after the housekeeper's departure, fell into a restful sleep.
She did not awake until it was nearly dark, when, feeling much refreshed, she arose and dressed herself resolving that she would not trouble tired Mrs. Weld to bring up her dinner, but go downstairs and have it with her, as usual.
The house was very quiet, for, all the guests having gone, there was only the family and the servants in the house.
Edith remained in her room until she heard the dinner-bell ring, when she went to the door to listen for Mr. and Mrs. G.o.ddard and Emil Correlli to go down, before she ventured forth, for she had a special object in view.
Presently she heard them enter the dining-room, whereupon she stole softly down after them and slipped into the library in search of the daily papers.
She found one, the _Transcript_, and then hurried back to her room, lighted the gas, and sat down to read.