“Have you done?” she asked, pale and calm.

“No, Hope Wayne, I have not done; I am not deceived by your smooth face and your quiet eyes.  I have known long enough that you meant to marry my Uncle Lawrence, although he is old enough to be your father.  The whole world has known it and seen it.  And I came to give you a chance of saving your name by showing to the world that my uncle came here familiarly because you were to marry his nephew.  You refuse the chance.  There was a time when you would have flown into my arms, and now you reject me ...  And I shall have my revenge!  I warn you to beware, Mrs. Lawrence Newt!  I warn you that my saintly uncle is not beyond misfortune, nor his milksop partner, the Reverend Gabriel Bennet.  I am a man at bay; and it is you who put me there; you who might save me and won’t.  You who will one day remember and suffer.”

He threw up his arms in uncontrollable rage and excitement.  His thick hoarse voice, his burning, bad, black eyes, his quivering hands, his bloated body, made him a terrible spectacle.

“Have you done?” asked Hope Wayne, with saintly dignity.

“Yes, I have done for this time,” he hissed; “but I shall cross you many a time.  You and yours,” he sneered, “but never so that you can harm me.  You shall feel, but never see me.  You have left me nothing but despair.  And the doom of my soul be upon yours!”

He rushed from the room, and Hope Wayne stood speechless.  Attracted by the loud tone of his voice, Mrs. Simcoe had come down stairs, and the moment he was gone she was by Hope’s side.  They seated themselves together upon the sofa, and Hope leaned her head upon her aunty’s shoulder and wept with utter surprise, grief, indignation, and weariness.

CHAPTER LXXX.

CLOUDS BREAKING.

The next morning Amy Waring came to Hope Wayne radiant with the prospect of her Aunt Martha’s restoration to the world.  Hope shook her hand warmly, and looked into her friend’s illuminated face.

“She is engaged to Lawrence Newt,” said Hope, in her heart, as she kissed Amy’s lips.

“God bless you, Amy!” she added, with so much earnestness that Amy looked surprised.

“I am very glad,” said Hope, frankly.

“Why, what do you know about it?” asked Amy.

“Do you think I am blind?” said Hope.

“No; but no eyes could see it, it was so hidden.”

“It can’t be hidden,” said Hope, earnestly.

Amy stopped, looked inquiringly at her friend, and blushed—­wondering what she meant.

“Come, Hope, at least we are hiding from each other.  I came to ask you to a family festival.”

“I am ready,” answered Hope, with an air of quiet knowledge, and not at all surprised.  Amy Waring was confused, she hardly knew why.

“Why, Hope, I mean only that Lawrence Newt—­”

Hope Wayne smiled so tenderly and calmly, and with such tranquil consciousness that she knew every thing Amy was about to say, that Amy stopped again.