r.

'Will ye _cut_?' barked Dudley, in a tone that made her jump; and suddenly,
without looking about, he strode after her from the room.

'Maud, how shall I recover this? The vulgar _villain_--the _fool_! What an
abyss were we approaching! and for me the last hope gone--and for me utter,
utter, irretrievable ruin.'

He was passing his fingers tremulously back and forward along the top of
the mantelpiece, like a man in search of something, and continued so,
looking along it, feebly and vacantly, although there was nothing there.

'I wish, uncle--you do not know how much I wish--I could be of any use to
you. Maybe I can?'

He turned, and looked at me sharply.

'Maybe you can,' he echoed slowly. 'Yes, maybe you can,' he repeated more
briskly.' Let us--let us see--let us think--that d---- fellow!--my head!'

'You're not well, uncle?'

'Oh! yes, very well. We'll talk in the evening--I'll send for you.'

I found Wyat in the next room, and told her to hasten, as I thought he was
ill. I hope it was not very selfish, but such had grown to be my horror of
seeing him in one of his strange seizures, that I hastened from the room
precipitately--partly to escape the risk of being asked to remain.

The walls of Bartram House are thick, and the recess at the doorway deep.
As I closed my uncle's door, I heard Dudley's voice on the stairs. I did
not wish to be seen by him or by his 'lady', as his poor wife called
herself, who was engaged in vehement dialogue with him as I emerged, and
not caring either to re-enter my uncle's room, I remained quietly ensconced
within the heavy door-case, in which position I overheard Dudley say with a
savage snarl--

'You'll jest go back the way ye came. I'm not goin' wi' ye, if that's what
ye be drivin' at--dang your impitins!'

'Oh! Dudley, dear, what have I done--what _have_ I done--ye hate me so?'

'What a' ye done? Ye vicious little beast, ye! You've got us turned out an'
disinherited wi' yer d----d bosh, that's all; don't ye think it's enough?'

I could only hear her sobs and shrill tones in reply, for they were
descending the stairs; and Mary Quince reported to me, in a horrified sort
of way, that she saw him bundle her into the fly at the door, like a truss
of hay into a hay-loft. And he stood with his head in at the window,
scolding her, till it drove away.

'I knew he wor jawing her, poor thing! By the way he kep' waggin' his
head--an' he had his fist inside, a shakin' in her fa