eature. They have kept her letters from me;
they have treated me like a child, and her like a dog, poor thing! My
mother has done this."

"If she has, you must remember it is your mother," Warrington
interposed.

"It only makes the crime the greater, because it is she who has done
it," Pen answered. "She ought to have been the poor girl's defender, not
her enemy: she ought to go down on her knees and ask pardon of her. I
ought! I will! I am shocked at the cruelty which has been shown her.
What? She gave me her all, and this is her return! She sacrifices
everything for me, and they spurn her."

"Hush!" said Warrington, "they can hear you from the next room."

"Hear? let them hear!" Pen cried out, only so much the louder. "Those
may overhear my talk who intercept my letters. I say this poor girl has
been shamefully used, and I will do my best to right her; I will."

The door of the neighbouring room opened, and Laura came forth with a
pale and stern face. She looked at Pen with glances from which beamed
pride, defiance, aversion. "Arthur, your mother is very ill," she said;
"it is a pity that you should speak so loud as to disturb her."

"It is a pity that I should have been obliged to speak at all," Pen
answered. "And I have more to say before I have done."

"I should think what you have to say will hardly be fit for me to hear,"
Laura said, haughtily.

"You are welcome to hear it or not, as you like," said Mr. Pen. "I shall
go in now and speak to my mother."

Laura came rapidly forward, so that she should not be overheard by her
friend within. "Not now, sir," she said to Pen. "You may kill her if you
do. Your conduct has gone far enough to make her wretched."

"What conduct?" cried out Pen, in a fury. "Who dares impugn it?
Who dares meddle with me? Is it you who are the instigator of this
persecution?"

"I said before it was a subject of which it did not become me to hear
or to speak," Laura said. "But as for mamma, if she had acted otherwise
than she did with regard to--to the person about whom you seem to take
such an interest, it would have been I that must have quitted your
house, and not that--that person."

"By heavens! this is too much," Pen cried out, with a violent
execration.

"Perhaps that is what you wished," Laura said, tossing her head up. "No
more of this, if you please; I am not accustomed to hear such subjects
spoken of in such language," and with a stately curtsey the young
lady passed