attribute to me an unworthy motive. In showing me the door
of this room consecrated by suffering, you are turning me out of your
house, which you and your son--for I must say it for once--have made a
hell to me."

"I! And my--No! this is indeed--" exclaimed the matron in panting rage.
She clasped her hands over her heaving bosom and her pale face was dyed
crimson, while her eyes flashed wrathful lightnings. "That is too much;
a thousand times too much--a thousand times--do you hear?--And I--I
condescend to answer you! We picked her up in the street, and have
treated her like a daughter, spent enormous sums on her, and now...."

This was addressed to the leech rather than to Paula; but she took up
the gauntlet and replied in a tone of unqualified scorn:

"And now I plainly declare, as a woman of full age, free to dispose of
myself, that to-morrow morning I leave this house with everything that
belongs to me, even if I should go as a beggar;--this house, where I
have been grossly insulted, where I and my faithful servant have been
falsely condemned, and where he is even now about to be murdered."

"And where you have been dealt with far too mildly," Neforis shrieked
at her audacious antagonist, "and preserved from sharing the fate of the
robber you smuggled into the house. To save a criminal--it is unheard
of:--you dared to accuse the son of your benefactor of being a corrupt
judge."

"And so he is," exclaimed Paula furious. "And what is more, he has
inveigled the child whom you destine to be his wife into bearing false
witness. More--much more could I say, but that, even if I did not
respect the mother, your husband has deserved that I should spare him."

"Spare him-spare!" cried Neforis contemptuously. "You--you will spare
us! The accused will be merciful and spare the judge! But you shall be
made to speak;--aye, made to speak! And as to what you, a slanderer, can
say about false witness..."

"Your own granddaughter," interrupted the leech, "will be compelled
to repeat it before all the world, noble lady, if you do not moderate
yourself."

Neforis laughed hysterically.

"So that is the way the wind blows!" she exclaimed, quite beside
herself. "The sick-room is a temple of Bacchus and Venus; and this
disgraceful conduct is not enough, but you must conspire to heap shame
and disgrace on this righteous house and its masters."

Then, resting her left hand which held the reliquary on her hip, she
added with hasty