Don't think to intimidate me, my lady, with your tragedy
airs and fiery glances. Mr. Sardonyx will wait upon you this afternoon.
If you can make it convenient to leave to-morrow, you will very much
oblige me."
His last words were almost lost. Mrs. Walraven, with a hysterical
scream, had fallen back among the pillows in strong convulsions. He just
stopped to give one backward glance of pitiless loathing, then rang for
her maid and left the room.
And so parted the ill-assorted husband and wife to meet no more. So
ended one mercenary marriage.
Carl Walraven went down-stairs, and found Mollie uneasily awaiting him.
"It's all settled, Mollie," he said. "You are the little mistress of the
house from this day forward, until"--looking at her earnestly--"you get
married."
Mollie reddened and shook her head.
"I shall never get married, guardy."
"No? Not even to Hugh Ingelow?"
"Least of all to Hugh Ingelow. Don't let us talk about it, guardy. What
did Mrs. Walraven say?"
"More than I care to repeat, Cricket. We won't talk about Mrs. Walraven,
either.
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