“That is just because Mr. Bainrothe over-persuaded him.  He used to admire General Jackson.  I heard him say once, myself, he would be the people’s choice, next time.”

“I thought you accused Mr. Bainrothe of toadying papa.  Where, now, is your boasted consistency?”

“Evelyn, you know very well that is the way to rule and toady papa.  Yield to him apparently, and he will let you lead him and have your own way pretty much.  You have found that out long ago, Evelyn.”  And I looked at her sharply, I confess.  She colored, but did not reply.  “There is more,” I said.  “A girl who would be ashamed of her own mother, and afraid to acknowledge her poverty, would not scruple to do this.  I believe you are almost as great a humbug at heart as Mr. Bainrothe himself,” and I smiled scornfully.  “That is what some people call him.”

She turned on me with cold, white eyes and quivering lips; she shook me by the shoulder until my teeth chattered and my hair tossed up and down like a pony’s mane blown by the winds, with her long, nervous fingers.

“Inform on me if you dare,” she said, “or utter such an opinion to papa, and I will make you and your baby both suffer for it, and that lame hop-toad too, who follows you everywhere like your shadow!  Moreover, if you do breathe a syllable of this slander, I shall tell Mr. Bainrothe your opinion of him, and make him your enemy.  And mark me, Miriam Monfort, precious Hebrew imp that you are, you could not have a direr one, not even if you searched your old Jewish Bible through and through for a parallel, or called up Satan himself.  I shall tell papa, too, that you are a story-teller, so that he will never again believe one word that you say, miss!”

“You could not convince him of that,” I said, disengaging myself from her grasp, “if you were to try, for I have honest eyes in my head, not speckled like a toad’s back, nor turning white with rage like a tree-frog laid on a window-sill; but, if you ever dare to lay your hand on me again, Evelyn Erle, I will tell papa every thing—­there, now!  This is the last time, remember.”

“I did not hurt you, and you know it, Miriam; I only shook you to settle your brains,” and she laughed a ghastly laugh, “and to make you a little bit afraid of me.”

“I am not afraid of you,” I said, “that is one comfort; and you can never make me so again; and I am not a mischief-maker, that is another; so rest in peace. Pass for my sister if you choose, and are proud of the title; I shall not say yes or no, but of this be certain, you are no sister of mine, though I call you such, either in heart or blood.  I do not love you, Evelyn Erle; and, if I were not afraid of the anger of God and my own heart, I would let myself hate you, and strike you.  But I always try and remember what mamma said, and what Mr. Lodore tells us every Sunday.  Yet I find it hard.”

“Little hypocrite! little Jew!” burst from her angry lips, and she left the room in a whirl of rage, not forgetting, however, to write me a very smooth note before she went to school next morning, which was, with her usual tact, slipped under my pillow before I awoke; and, after that, all was outward peace between us for a season.