The severity of her pose
became her, and the lad's callow desire that had driven him to his
ruin stirred him to impotent rage in his desperation. There were
gray patches in his cheeks, and his voice was strained and hoarse.
"You have no mercy on me because I struck at him," he said. "The one
thing I shall always be sorry for is that I failed, and I would go
away with pleasure if the horse had trampled the life out of him.
Well, there was a time when you could have made what you wished of
me, and now, at least, I shall not see the blackleg you have showered
your favors on drag you down to the mire he came from."
Maud Barrington's face had grown very colorless, but she said
nothing, and her aunt rose and raised the hammer of a gong.
"Ferris," she said. "Do you wish to be led out by the hired men?"
The lad laughed, and the hideous merriment set the white-haired
lady's nerves on edge. "Oh, I am going now, but, for once, let us be
honest. It was for her I did it, and if it had been any other man I
had injured, she would have forgiven me."
Then with an ironical farewell he swung out of the room, and the two
women exchanged glances when the door closed noisily behind him.
Miss Barrington was flushed with anger, but her niece's face was
paler than usual.
"Are there men like him?" she said.
Miss Barrington shook off her anger, and rising, laid a gentle hand
on her niece's shoulder. "Very few, I hope," she said. "Still, it
would be better if we sent word to Dane.
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