"Ah, that's your game, my girl, is it?" she said. "You've come back the
grand lady, have you? You've no further, use for your mother, I daresay.
She may work her fingers to the bone for all you care--or ever will care
again."
Dinah whizzed round, scarlet and crestfallen. "Oh, Mother! How you
startled me! I only wanted to see if--if my hair was tidy."
"And that's one of your lies," said Mrs. Bathurst, with a heavy hand on
her shoulder. "They've taught you how to juggle with the truth, that's
plain. Oh yes, Lady Studley that is to be, you've learnt a lot since
you've been away, I can see--learnt to despise your mother, I'll lay a
wager. But I'll show you she's not to be despised by a prinking minx like
you. What did I send you in here for, eh?"
"To--to see to the kettle," faltered Dinah, shrinking before the stern
regard of the black eyes that so mercilessly held her own.
"And there it is ready to boil over, and you haven't touched it, you
worthless little hussy, you! Take that--and dare to disobey me again!"
She dealt the girl a blow with her open hand as she spoke, a swinging,
pitiless blow, on the cheek, and pushed her fiercely from her.
Dinah reeled momentarily. The sudden violence of the attack bewildered
her. Actually she had almost forgotten how dreadful her mother could be.
Then, recovering herself, she went to the fire and stooped over it,
without a word.
Pages:
286
287
288
289
290
291
292
293
294
295
296
297
298
299
300
301
302
303
304
305
306
307
308
309
310