252 The Real Charlotte. 



They glared at each other, the fire of anger smiting on 

 both their faces, lighting Francie's cheek with a malign 

 brilliance^ and burning in ugly purple-red on Charlotte's 

 leathery skin. The girl's aggressive beauty was to Charlotte 

 a keener taunt than the rudimentary insult of her words ; it 

 brought with it a swarm of thoughts that buzzed and stung 

 in her soul like poisonous flies. 



''And might one be permitted to ask how long you're 

 going to wait ? " she said, with quivering lips drawn back ; 

 " will six months be enough for you, or do you consider the 

 orthodox widower's year too long to wait ? I daresay you'll 

 have found out what spending there is in twenty-five pounds 

 before that, and ye'll go whimpering to Roddy Lambert, and 

 asking him to make ye Number Two, and to pay your debts 

 and patch up your character ! " 



" Roddy Lambert ! " cried Francie, bursting out into shrill 

 unpleasant laughter ; " I think I'll try and do better than 

 that, thank ye, though you're so kind in making him a 

 present to me ! " Then, firing a random shot, *' I'll not 

 deprive you of him, Charlotte ; you may keep him all to 

 yourself ! " 



It is quite within the bounds of possibility that Charlotte 

 might at this juncture have struck Francie, and thereby 

 have put herself for ever into a false position, but her 

 guardian angel, in the shape of Susan, the grey tom-cat, 

 intervened. He had jumped in at the window during the 

 discussion, and having rubbed himself unnoticed against 

 Charlotte's legs with stiff, twitching tail, and cold eyes fixed 

 on her face, he, at this critical instant, sprang upwards at 

 her, and clawed on to the bosom of her dress, hanging there 

 in expectation of the hand that should help him to the 

 accustomed perch on his mistress's shoulder. The blow 

 that was so near being Francie's descended upon the cat's 

 broad confident face and hurled him to the ground. He 

 bolted out of the window again, and when he was safely on 

 the gravel walk, turned and looked back with an expression 

 of human anger and astonishment. 



When Charlotte spoke her voice was caught away from 

 her as Christopher Dysart's had been the day before. All 

 the passions have but one instrument to play on when they 



