, too, with a
feeling of helpless exasperation, that his own portrait hung on the wall
in close proximity to that of Rita Claiborne. He clenched his hands with
inward rage. "What does this she-devil mean?" he asked himself, and at
that moment, the object of his anger swept into the room. There was
something gracious, as well as graceful, in her movements. She had the
air of a victor who is willing to be magnanimous.

"What is your business with me?" she asked with lifted eyebrows. There
was just the shadow of a smile hovering around her mouth. Silas caught
it, and looking into a swinging mirror opposite, he saw how impossible
it was for a man with a weazened face and a skull-cap to cope with such
a woman as this. However, he had his indignation, his sense of
persecution, to fall back upon.

"I want to know what you intend to do," said Silas. There was a note of
weakness and helplessness in his voice. "I want to know what to expect.
I'm tired of leading a dog's life. I hear you have been colloguing with
lawyers."

"Do you remember your first visit here?" inquired Mrs. Claiborne very
sweetly. If she was an enemy, she certainly knew how to conceal her
feelings. "Do you remember how wildly you talked--how insulting you
were?"

"I declare to you on my honour that I never intended to insult you,"
Silas exclaimed.

"Why, all your insinuations were insulting. You gave me to understand
that my coming here was an outrage--as if you had anything to do with my
movements. But you insisted that my coming here was an attack on you and
your son. When and where and how did I ever do you a wrong?"

"Why didn't you--didn't--" Silas tried hard to formulate his wrongs, but
they were either so many or so few that words failed him.

"Did I desert you when you were ill and delirious? Did I put faith in an
anonymous letter and believe you to be dead?" The lady spoke with a
calmness that seemed to be unnatural and unreal.

For a little while, Silas made no reply, but sat like one dazed, his
eyes fixed on the crayon portrait of himself. "Did you hang that thing
up there for Paul to see it and ask questions about it?" he asked,
after awhile.

"I hung it there because I chose to," she replied. "Judge Vardeman
thinks it is a very good likeness of you, but I don't agree with him. Do
you think it does you justice?" she asked.

"And then there's Paul," said Silas, ignoring her question. "Do you
propose to let him go ahead and fall in love