"Why not let me go? You do not approve of me--let me find another
position."
"You'll stay in your father's house," Mrs. Rainham said. "We'll see what
the law has to say to your leaving with your precious Bob. Your
father's your legal guardian, and in his control you stay until you're
twenty-one, and be very thankful to make yourself useful. The law will
deal with Bob if he tries to take you away--you're a minor, and it'd
be abduction." The word had a pleasantly legal flavour; she repeated it
with emphasis. "Abduction; that's what it is, and there's a nice penalty
for it. Now you know, and if you don't want to get Bob into trouble,
you'd best be careful."
Cecilia had grown rather white. The law was a great and terrible
instrument, of which she knew nothing. It seemed to have swallowed up
Aunt Margaret's money; it might very well have left her defenceless. Her
stepmother seemed familiar with its powers, and able to evoke them at
will; and though she did not trust her, there was something in her glib
utterance that struck fear into the girl's heart. She did not answer,
and Mrs. Rainham followed up her advantage.
"We'll go home," she said. "And you make up your mind to tell me what
was in that telegram, and not to have any secrets from me. One thing I
can tell you--until you decide to behave yourself--Bob shan't show his
nose in my house, and you shan't go out to meet him, either.
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