Yield to him apparently, and he will let you lead him and have your own
way pretty much. You have found that out long ago, Evelyn." And I looked
at her sharply, I confess. She colored, but did not reply. "There is
more," I said. "A girl who would be ashamed of her own mother, and
afraid to acknowledge her poverty, would not scruple to do this. I
believe you are almost as great a humbug at heart as Mr. Bainrothe
himself," and I smiled scornfully. "That is what _some_ people call
him."

She turned on me with cold, white eyes and quivering lips; she shook me
by the shoulder until my teeth chattered and my hair tossed up and down
like a pony's mane blown by the winds, with her long, nervous fingers.

"Inform on me if you dare," she said, "or utter such an opinion to papa,
and I will make you and your baby both suffer for it, and that lame
hop-toad too, who follows you everywhere like your shadow! Moreover, if
you do breathe a syllable of this slander, I shall tell Mr. Bainrothe
your opinion of him, and make _him_ your enemy. And mark me, Miriam
Monfort, precious Hebrew imp that you are, you could not have a direr
one, not even if you searched your old Jewish Bible through and through
for a parallel, or called up Satan himself. I shall tell papa, too, that
you are a story-teller, so that he will never again believe one word
that you say, miss!"

"You could not convince him of that," I said, disengaging myself from
her grasp, "if you were to try, for I have honest eyes in my head, not
speckled like a toad's back, nor turning white with rage like a
tree-frog laid on a window-sill; but, if you ever dare to lay your hand
on me again, Evelyn Erle, I will tell papa _every thing_--there, now!
This is the last time, remember."