is mean, nothing but what is cowardly, in the motive
which has led _you._"

He started to his feet, and flung his cigar into the empty fireplace.

"Madame Pratolungo," he said, "I have not the honor of knowing anything
of your family. I can't call a woman to account for insulting me. Do you
happen to have any _man_ related to you, in or out of England?"

"I happen to have what will do equally well on this occasion," I replied.
"I have a hearty contempt for threats of all sorts, and a steady
resolution in me to say what I think."

He walked to the door, and opened it.

"I decline to give you the opportunity of saying anything more," he
rejoined. "I beg to leave you in possession of the room, and to wish you
good evening."

He opened the door. I had entered the house, armed in my own mind with a
last desperate resolve, only to be communicated to him, or to anybody, in
the final emergency and at the eleventh hour. The time had come for
saying what I had hoped with my whole heart to have left unsaid.

I rose on my side, and stopped him as he was leaving the room.

"Return to your chair and your book," I said. "Our interview is at an
end. In leaving the house, I have one last word to say. You are wasting
your time in remaining at Dimchurch."

"I am the best judge of that," he answered, making way for me to go out.

"Pardon me, you are not in a position to judge at all. You don't know
what I mean to do as soon as I get back to the rectory."

He instantly changed his position; placing himself in the doorway so as
to prevent me from leaving the room.

"What do you mean to do?" he asked, keeping his eyes attentively fixed on
mine.

"I mean to force you to leave Dimchurch."

He laughed insolently. I went on as quietly as before. "You have
personated your brother to Lucilla this morning," I said. "You have done
that, Mr. Nugent Dubourg, for the last time."

"Have I? Who will prevent me from doing it again?"

"I will."

This time he took it seriously.

"You?" he said. "How are _you_ to control me, if you please?"

"I can control you through Lucilla. When I get back to the rectory, I
can, and will, tell Lucilla the truth."

He started--and instantly recovered himself.

"You forget something, Madame Pratolungo. You forget what the surgeon in
attendance on her has told us."

"I remember it perfectly. If we say or do anything to agitate his
patient, in her present state, the surgeon refuses to answer for the