"Upon my soul, madam," she almost shrieked, "you are enough to drive me
to murder! I could beat you, standing there so dumb, as if I was not
worthy to speak a word to. Ay! and I would, but for him. So, then, three
weeks of this hasn't broken you down yet! but you are only making it the
worse for yourself; we shall try other means to-morrow."

She had no idea how nearly my spirit was broken, for I gave her no
reply. She came up to where I stood, and shook her clinched hand in my
face--a large, well-shaped hand, with bejewelled fingers, that could
have given me a heavy blow. Her face was dark with passion; yet she was
maintaining some control over herself, though with great difficulty. She
had never struck me yet, but I trembled and shrank from her, and was
thankful when she flung herself out of the room, pulling the door
violently after her, and locking it noisily, as if the harsh, jarring
sounds would be more terrifying than the tones of her own voice.

Left to myself I turned round to the light, catching a fresh glimpse of
my face in the mirror--a pale and sadder and more forlorn face than
before. I almost hated myself in that glass. But I was hungry, for I was
young, and my health and appetite were very good; and I sat down to my
plain fare, and ate it heartily. I felt stronger and in better spirits
by the time I had finished the meal; I resolved to brave it out a little
longer. The house was very quiet; for at present there was no one in it
except the woman and the servant who had been up to my room. The servant
was a poor London drudge, who was left in charge by the owners of the
house, and who had been forbidden to speak to me. After a while I heard
her heavy, shambling footsteps coming slowly up the staircase, and
passing my door on her way to the attics above; they sounded louder than
usual, and I turned my head round involuntarily. A thin, fine streak of