Her clear, emphatic voice fell without agitation. Now that the
first shock of the encounter was past she had herself quite firmly
in hand.

But Mrs. Ingleton took her up swiftly, realizing possibly that a
moment's delay would mean the yielding of the ground she had so
arrogantly claimed.

"I shall manage you exactly as I choose," she said, raising her
voice with abrupt violence. "I know very well your position in
this house. You are absolutely dependent, and--unless you
marry--you will remain so, being quite unqualified to earn your own
living. Therefore the whip-hand is mine, and if I find you
insolent or intractable I shall use it without mercy. How dare you
set yourself against me in this way?" She stamped with sudden fury
upon the ground. "No, not a word! Leave the room instantly--I will
have no more of it! Do you hear me, Sylvia? Do you hear me?"

She raised a menacing hand, but the fearless eyes never flinched.

"I think you must be mad," Sylvia said.

"Mad!" raved Mrs. Ingleton. "Mad because I refuse to be dictated
to by an impertinent girl? Mad because I insist upon being
mistress in my own house? You--you little viper--how dare you
stand there defying me? Do you want to be turned out into the
street?"

She had worked herself up into unreasoning rage again. Sylvia saw
that further argument would be worse than useless. Very quietly,