stirred, she knew no pity, set no limits to her speech.

"I think, indeed," said she, her voice crisp and merciless, "that the
family honour will best be saved if Mr. Wilding kills you. It is in
danger while you live. You are a coward, Richard."

"Diana!" he thundered - he could be mighty brave with women - whilst
Ruth clutched her arm to restrain her.

But she continued, undeterred: "You are a coward - a pitiful coward,"
she told him. "Consult your mirror. It will tell you what a palsied
thing you are. That you should dare so speak to Ruth..."

"Don't!" Ruth begged her, turning.


"Aye," growled Richard, "she had best be silent."

Diana rose, to battle, her cheeks crimson. "It asks a braver man than
you to compel my obedience," she told him. "La!" she fumed, "I'll swear
that had Mr. Wilding overheard what you have said to your sister, you
would have little to fear from his sword. A cane would be the weapon
he'd use on you.

Richard's pale eyes flamed malevolently; a violent rage possessed him
and flooded out his fear, for nothing can so goad a man as an offensive
truth. Ruth approached him again; again she took him by the arm,
seeking to soothe his over-troubled spirit; but again he shook her off.
And then to save the situation came a servant from the house. So lost
in anger was all Richard's sense of decency that the mere supervention