s wrath.]

There never had been such a case before,--so impudent, so cruel, so
gross, so uncalled for, so unmanly, so unnecessary, so unjustifiable,
so damnable,--so sure of eternal condemnation! All this she
said to him with loud voice, and clenched fist, and starting
eyes,--regardless utterly of any listeners on the stairs, or of
outside passers in the street. In very truth she was moved to a
sublimity of indignation. Her low nature became nearly poetic under
the wrong inflicted upon her. She was almost tempted to tear him with
her hands, and inflict upon him at the moment some terrible vengeance
which should be told of for ever in the annals of Exeter. A man so
mean as he, so weak, so cowardly, one so little of a hero;--that he
should dare to do it, and dare to sit there before her, and to say
that he would do it! "Your gown shall be torn off your back, sir, and
the very boys of Exeter shall drag you through the gutters!" To this
threat he said nothing, but sat mute, hiding his face in his hands.
"And now tell me this, sir;--is there anything between you and
Bella?" But there was no voice in reply. "Answer my question, sir.
I have a right to ask it." Still he said not a word. "Listen to me.
Sooner than that you and she should be man and wife, I would stab
her! Yes, I would;--you poor, paltry, lying, cowardly creature!" She
remained with him for more than half an hour, and then banged out of
the room flashing back a look of scorn at him as she went. Martha,
before that day was over, had learned the whole story from Mr.
Gibson's cook, and had told her mistress.

"I did not think he had so much spirit in him," was Miss Stanbury's
answer. Throughout Exeter the great wonder arising from the crisis
was the amount of spirit which had been displayed by Mr. Gibson.

When he was left alone he shook himself, and began to think that if
there were danger that such interviews might occur frequently he had
better leave Exeter for good. As he put his hand over his forehead,
he declared to himself that a very little more of that kind of thing
would kill him. When a couple of hours had passed over his head he
shook himself again, and sat down and wrote a letter to his intended
mother-in-law.

I do not mean to complain [he said], God knows I have
no right; but I cannot stand a repetition of what has
occurred just now. If your younger daughter comes to see
me again I must refuse to see her, and shall leave the
t