you and I love my father, but I give you
fair warning there is trouble ahead for any one who crosses me in this
matter."

She certainly looked as if she spoke the truth. Then she hummed a tune
under her breath--a dangerous signal in Dorothy at certain times. Soon the
humming turned to whistling. Whistling in those olden days was looked upon
as a species of crime in a girl.

Dorothy stood by the window for a short time and then taking up an
embroidery frame, drew a chair nearer to the light and began to work at
her embroidery. In a moment or two she stopped whistling, and we could
almost feel the silence in the room. Madge, of course, only partly knew
what had happened, and her face wore an expression of expectant, anxious
inquiry. Aunt Dorothy looked at me, and I looked at the fire. The
parchment burned slowly. Lady Crawford, from a sense of duty to Sir George
and perhaps from politic reasons, made two or three attempts to speak, and
after five minutes of painful silence she brought herself to say:--

"Dorothy, your father left the contract here for you to read. He will be
angry when he learns what you have done. Such disobedience is sure to--"

"Not another word from you," screamed Dorothy, springing like a tigress
from her chair. "Not another word from you or I will--I will scratch you.
I will kill some one. Don't speak to me. Can't you see that I am trying to
calm myself for an interview with father? An angry brain is full of
blunders. I want to make none. I will settle this affair with father. No
one else, not even you, Aunt Dorothy, shall interfere." The girl turned to
the window, stood beating a tattoo upon the glass for a moment or two,
then went over to Lady Crawford and knelt by her side. She put her arms
about Aunt Dorothy's neck, softly kissed her, and said:--

"Forgive me, dear aunt; forgive me. I am almost crazed with my troubles. I
love you dearly indeed, indeed I do."

Madge gropingly went to Dorothy's side and took her hand. Dorothy kissed
Madge's hand and rose to her feet.

"Where is my father?" asked Dorothy, to whom a repentant feeling toward
Lady Crawford had brought partial calmness. "I will go to him immediately
and will have this matter over. We might as well understand each other at
once. Father seems very dull at understanding me. But he shall know me
better before long."

Sir George may have respected the strength of his adversary, but Dorothy
had no respect for the strength of her foe.