“So much the worse for my cloth, then,” I answered, “and the better for yours if it leads you to act more honourably.”

Still keeping himself entrenched in the affectation of a supercilious indifference, he smiled haughtily, and gave a look of dramatic appeal to Mrs Oldcastle.

“At least,” said that lady, “do not disgrace yourself, Ethelwyn, by leaving the house in this unaccountable manner at night and on foot.  If you will leave the protection of your mother’s roof, wait at least till tomorrow.”

“I would rather spend the night in the open air than pass another under your roof, mother.  You have been a strange mother to me—­and Dorothy too!”

“At least do not put your character in question by going in this unmaidenly fashion.  People will talk to your prejudice—­and Mr Walton’s too.”

Ethelwyn smiled.—­She was now as collected as I was, seeming to have cast off all her weakness.  My heart was uplifted more than I can say.—­She knew her mother too well to be caught by the change in her tone.

I had not hitherto interrupted her once when she took the answer upon herself, for she was not one to be checked when she chose to speak.  But now she answered nothing, only looked at me, and I understood her, of course.

“They will hardly have time to do so, I trust, before it will be out of their power.  It rests with Miss Oldcastle herself to say when that shall be.”

As if she had never suspected that such was the result of her scheming, Mrs Oldcastle’s demeanour changed utterly.  The form of her visage was altered.  She made a spring at her daughter, and seized her by the arm.

“Then I forbid it,” she screamed; “and I will be obeyed.  I stand on my rights.  Go to your room, you minx.”

“There is no law human or divine to prevent her from marrying whom she will.  How old are you, Ethelwyn?”

I thought it better to seem even cooler than I was.

“Twenty-seven,” answered Miss Oldcastle.

“Is it possible you can be so foolish, Mrs Oldcastle, as to think you have the slightest hold on your daughter’s freedom?  Let her arm go.”

But she kept her grasp.

“You hurt me, mother,” said Miss Oldcastle.

“Hurt you? you smooth-faced hypocrite!  I will hurt you then!”

But I took Mrs Oldcastle’s arm in my hand, and she let go her hold.

“How dare you touch a woman?” she said.

“Because she has so far ceased to be a woman as to torture her own daughter.”

Here Captain Everard stepped forward, saying,—­

“The riot-act ought to be read, I think.  It is time for the military to interfere.”

“Well put, Captain Everard,” I said.  “Our side will disperse if you will only leave room for us to go.”

“Possibly I may have something to say in the matter.”

“Say on.”

“This lady has jilted me.”