is,--it is, most unfortunately!" returned the minister, shaking his
bullet-like head a great many times; then, with a sort of elephantine
cheerfulness, he added, "but what matter? There is time to remedy these
things. I am willing to set myself as a strong barrier against the evil
noises of rumor! Am I selfish or ungenerous? The Lord forbid it! No
matter how _I_ am compromised, no matter how _I_ am misjudged,--I am
still willing to take you as my lawful wife Froeken Thelma,--but," and
here he shook his forefinger at her with a pretended playfulness, "I
will permit no more converse with Sir Philip Errington; no, no! I cannot
allow it! . . . I cannot, indeed!"

She still looked straight at him,--her bosom rose and fell rapidly with
her passionate breath, and there was such an eloquent breath of scorn in
her face that he winced under it as though struck by a sharp scourge.

"You are not worth my anger!" she said slowly, this time without a
tremor in her rich voice. "One must have something to be angry with, and
you--you are nothing! Neither man nor beast,--for men are brave, and
beasts tell no lies! Your wife! I!" and she laughed aloud,--then with a
gesture of command, "Go!" she exclaimed, "and never let me see your face
again!"

The clear scornful laughter,--the air of absolute authority with which
she spoke,--would have stung the most self-opinionated of men, even
though his conscience were enveloped in a moral leather casing of
hypocrisy and arrogance. And, notwithstanding his invariable air of
mildness, Mr. Dyceworthy had a temper. That temper rose to a white heat
just now,--every drop of blood receded from his countenance,--and his
soft hands clenched themselves in a particularly ugly and threatening
manner. Yet he managed to preserve his suave composure.

"Alas, alas!" he murmured. "How sorely my soul is afflicted to see you
thus, Froeken! I am amazed--I am distressed! Such language from your
lips! oh fie, fie! And has it come to this! And must I resign the hope I
had of saving your poor soul? and must I withdraw my spiritual
protection from you?" This he asked with a suggestive sneer of his prim
mouth,--and then continued, "I must--alas, I must! My conscience will
not permit me to do more than pray for you! And as is my duty, I shall,
in a spirit of forbearance and charity, speak warningly to Sir Philip
concerning--"

But Thelma did not permit him to finish his sentence. She sprang forward
like a young leoparde