CHAPTER XXXVII.

MY FIRST QUARREL WITH MR. LEE.

As I entered the lower hall, I met Mr. Lee. He gave me a look such as I never before saw in his face; it so increased my indignation, that, if it had not been for Jessie, I would have walked out of the house that instant.

"Miss Hyde," he said, in the low, measured tone his voice always took when he was angry, "will you step into the library for a moment?"

"Do you wish to speak with me?" I asked, rebelliously.

"If you have leisure."

I swept before him into the room. Every drop of blood in my veins tingled as if on fire. He followed me, and closed the door.

"How does it happen," he began, "that you and Jessie went upon an expedition like that of this morning without consulting me?"

I did my best to answer quietly, although his manner aggravated me almost beyond endurance.

"Simply because you were not here to consult," I replied.

"But you could have told me last night."

Then I flashed up a little, and said,--

"Mr. Lee, I am not a school-girl, to be crowded into a corner and catechized."

"Madam," he returned, "I think I have a right to know everything connected with my daughter; I will permit no mysteries in this house."

"There have been none on my part or Jessie's," I replied.

"Then be good enough to give me an explanation of what, I own, seems to me a singular proceeding in a lady of your acknowledged discretion."

"It is easily done," I answered, still remembering Jessie, and so remaining reasonably calm. "Yesterday, old Mrs. Bosworth sent for me; her grandson is very ill--he has brain-fever. He begged to see us particularly. I came home and told your wife; she said Jessie should go to-day. We expected you to accompany us. Last night there was no opportunity of speaking to you, every moment of your time was occupied. This morning, you were gone; but as I had the mother's permission, I thought it no harm to start. A visit to a sick, almost a dying man, can never injure your daughter, Mr. Lee."

His face flushed at once.

"I was mistaken," he said.

"You must have been cruelly mistaken or misinformed," I replied, coldly, "when you could address me as you have done."

"I beg your pardon, Miss Hyde," he returned.

I granted it with a sullen bend of the head.

"Who told you where we had gone?" I asked, bluntly.

He hesitated, and I followed up my advantage.

"No one knew of it but Mrs. Lee," I said; "you have not seen her to-day. Yesterday you reproved me for sending Cora out of the hall; sir, she was listening while I told Jessie, and repeated it to her mistress. I don't know what you may think of such conduct on the part of a guest; but to me the idea of making trouble in a house where one has been hospitably treated, seems very contemptible."

"Miss Hyde! Miss Hyde!" he exclaimed, "I assure you Mrs. Dennison did it thoughtlessly--she had no idea."

"Excuse me," said I, still burning with indignation, "I am quite capable of forming and holding my own opinions; it is a right I shall not readily relinquish."

I am sorry to say we very nearly had a serious quarrel; but I was so dissatisfied, so indignant that a man of his sense and refinement could be duped in the way he was, that I could not control myself.

We parted civilly enough, however; and when I went up-stairs, Jessie knew all about the affair; Mrs. Dennison had been to her crying and begging for forgiveness. She had thoughtlessly repeated to her father where we had gone, he was angry, and the whole thing was breaking her heart.

"I dare say she meant no harm," added Jessie; "she is so giddy."

"Pray, how did she know?" I asked.

"She fancied it, she said."

"That was a falsehood," I retorted. "Cora told her--I knew she was listening yesterday."

Jessie was as much shocked with me as her father had been. With their exaggerated ideas of hospitality, they considered it little less than a crime to acknowledge that a guest could have any fault.

"Oh, Aunt Matty!" she said, "I never knew you unjust before."

I was forced to go out of the room; my anger was over, and I felt the tears rushing to my eyes. I passed a very uncomfortable day. Jessie and her father came to an understanding; Mrs. Dennison soon had them both under her spell again, and I knew they blamed me exceedingly.

I loved them too well for real indignation; but I was broken-hearted at the idea that this woman could come between Jessie and her love for me.

There was company at dinner. I spent the evening in Mrs. Lee's room--the first comfortable hour I had passed since morning. She did not know that anything had gone wrong, pitied my head, which she was sure ached terribly, and by her sweet and tender kindness made me somewhat more reconciled to life.

I sat in my own room after I left her, but did not retire until very late. I heard the guests go away--heard the different members of the family pass up to their rooms; but still I sat by the window, sad and lonely. At last the clock struck one. I rose, startled into common-sense again, stopped star-gazing, and closing my window, prepared for rest.

Suddenly I heard a noise--very faint, but my nerves were wonderfully acute that night. I opened the door and looked into the hall; as I did so, I saw a figure clad in white glide out of Lottie's chamber, and disappear down the passage.

I fairly thought it something supernatural at first, then I ran out, but there was nothing to be seen. I stole to Lottie's room and looked in; she was sleeping soundly, so I went back to my own apartment. That incident, added to the excitement of the day, kept me awake for hours. I tried to convince myself that it was only one of my ridiculous fancies: but the effort was in vain; I knew that I had seen that white shape steal by--it was no delusion. Who was it? What was it?

I determined to say nothing, feeling certain that everybody would laugh at me. I knew that it was silly, but I could not drive away the terror that chilled my heart. Everything had gone so wrong of late, that quiet house was so changed, that the least thing disturbed me more than events of importance would once have done.