"
Then the smouldering passion burst into a flame.
"It is false," he cried out; "you would have done nothing. It is a plot.
You are all in it; you, your son, and more that I will know soon. I saw
it from the first moment I set foot in this cursed house. And you think
I will not be revenged? Wait--wait and see!" He spoke rapidly, but it
seemed as if the words could hardly force their way through his gnashing
teeth.
Good and kind-hearted as she was, there breathed no prouder woman than
Lady Catharine Livingstone. Before he had ended her hand was on the
bell.
"Not even your disappointment can excuse your language," she said, in
her clear, vibrating tones; "our interview is ended. I have pitied you
hitherto, and blamed my niece; I do neither now: she knew you better
than I. Not one word more. Mr. Bruce's carriage."
Bruce glared at her savagely. He would have sold his soul, I believe,
to have strangled her where she stood; but Guy's own peculiar look was
in the cold, disdainful eyes, which met his without flinching or
faltering. He knew that look very well, and quailed under it now, as he
had done many times before.
"A last piece of advice," Lady Catharine said, as he turned to go; "you
had better curb your temper if you think of seeing my son.
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