with
heaving breast and cheeks burning with indignation, the man with cynical
watchfulness. Suddenly, shrinking from actual contact with him, she
sprang aside, and was at the door before he could intercept her. But
with a rapid movement he turned on his heel, seized her round the waist
before she could open the door, dragged her shrieking from it, and with
an oath--and not without an effort--flung her panting and breathless
into the window-seat. 'There!' he cried ferociously, his blood fired by
the struggle; 'lie there! And behave yourself, my lady, or I'll find
means to quiet you. For you,' he continued, turning fiercely on the
tutor, whose face the sudden scuffle and the girl's screams had blanched
to the hue of paper, 'did you never hear a woman squeak before? And you,
my lord? Are you so dainty? But, to be sure, 'tis your lordship's
mistress,' he continued ironically. 'Your pardon. I forgot that. I
should not have handled her so roughly. However, she is none the worse,
and 'twill bring her to reason.'

But the struggle and the girl's cries had shaken my lord's nerves. 'D--n
you!' he cried hysterically, and with a stamp of the foot, 'you should
not have done that.'

'Pooh, pooh,' Mr. Pomeroy answered lightly. 'Do you leave it to me, my
lord. She does not know her own mind. 'Twill help her to find it. And
now, if you'll take my advice, you'll leave her to a night's
reflection.'

But Lord Almeric only repeated, 'You should not have done that.'

Mr. Pomeroy's face showed his scorn for the man whom a cry or two and a
struggling woman had frightened. Yet he affected to see art in it. 'I
understand. And it is the right line to take,' he said; and he laughed
unpleasantly. 'No doubt it will be put to your lordship's credit. But
now, my lord,' he continued, 'let us go. You will see she will have come
to her senses by to-morrow.'

The girl had remained passive since her defeat. But at this she rose
from the window-seat where she had crouched, slaying them with furious
glances. 'My lord,' she cried passionately, 'if you are a man, if you
are a gentleman--you'll not suffer this.'

But Lord Almeric, who had recovered from his temporary panic, and was
as angry with her as with Pomeroy, shrugged his shoulders. 'Oh, I don't
know,' he said resentfully. 'It has naught to do with me, ma'am. I don't
want you kept, but you have behaved uncommon low to me; uncommon low.
And 'twill do you good to think on it. Stap me, it will!'