“Although their amusement ends in the utter ruin of its subject?  Do you not call that a crime?”

“Girl, keep your place, if you please!  Twice you have ventured to call me Mrs. Brudenell.  To you I am madam.  Twice you have asked me questions.  You are here to answer, not to ask!”

“Pardon me, madam, if I have offended you through my ignorance of forms,” said Nora, bowing with gentle dignity; for somehow or other she was gaining self-possession every moment.

“Will you answer my questions then; or continue to evade them?”

“I can answer you so far, madam—­Mr. Brudenell has never attempted to amuse himself at the expense of Nora Worth; nor is she one to permit herself to become the subject of any man’s amusement, whether he be gentle or simple!”

“And yet he visits you daily, and you permit his visits!  And this has gone on for months!  You cannot deny it—­you do not attempt to deny it!” She paused, as if waiting some reply; but Nora kept silence.

“And yet you say he is not amusing himself at your expense!”

“He is not, madam; nor would I permit anyone to do so!”

“I do not understand this!  Girl! answer me!  What are you to my son?”

Nora was silent.

“Answer me!” said the lady severely.

“I cannot, madam!  Oh, forgive me, but I cannot answer you!” said Nora.

The lady looked fixedly at her for a few seconds; something in the girl’s appearance startled her; rising, she advanced and pulled the heavy shawl from Nora’s shoulders, and regarded her with an expression of mingled hauteur, anger, and scorn.

Nora dropped her head upon her breast and covered her blushing face with both hands.

“I am answered!” said the lady, throwing her shawl upon the floor and touching the bell rope.

Jovial answered the summons.

“Put this vile creature out of the house, and if she ever dares to show her face upon these premises again send for a constable and have her taken up,” said Mrs. Brudenell hoarsely and white with suppressed rage, as she pointed to the shrinking girl before her.

“Come, Miss Nora, honey,” whispered the old man kindly, as he picked up the shawl and put it over her shoulders and took her hand to lead her from the room; for, ah! old Jovial as well as his fellow-servants had good cause to know and understand the “white heat” of their mistress’ anger.

As with downcast eyes and shrinking form Nora followed her conductor through the central passage and past the dining-room door, she once more saw Herman Brudenell still sitting with his friends at the table.

“Ah, if he did but know what I have had to bear within the last few minutes!” she said to herself as she hurried by.

When she re-entered the kitchen she drew the shawl closer around her shivering figure, pulled the bonnet farther over her blushing face, and silently took the arm of Hannah to return home.