Mr. Walraven's darkest scowl did not intimidate her in the
least.
"Leave the room, madame!" ordered her husband, authoritatively; "and
take you care that I don't assert my right and compel you to obey me,
before long."
"Compel!" It was such a good joke that Mrs. Blanche's silvery laugh rang
through the apartment. "You compelled me once, against my will, when you
took your ward with you on your wedding-tour. I don't think it will ever
happen again, Mr. Walraven. And now, how do you like my dress? I came in
expressly to ask you, for the carriage waits."
"Leave the room!" cried Carl Walraven, in a voice of thunder. "Be gone!"
"You are violent," said Blanche, with a provoking shrug and smile, but
prudently retreating. "You forget your voice may be heard beyond this
room. Since you lost your ward you appear also to have lost your
temper--never of the best, I must say. Well, my love, by-bye for the
present. Don't quite wear out the carpet before I return."
With the last sneer and a sweeping bow, the lady quitted the library. As
she closed the door, the house-bell rang violently.
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