"
"You give me up, for the sake of a whim, of some silly fustian about
patriotism, some fool's rubbish of high-sounding words! _Me_, you
balance against a crazy notion! Very well, sir! How I shall hate you
for it! Don't come near me--not a step! Cling to your notion; see if
it will fill my place! From this moment, you're not my husband, I'm
not your wife--unless you promise we shall sail in June! And don't
dare speak to me, except to tell me that!"
Whereupon, paying no heed to his reproachful cry of "Madge," she swept
past him, and across the parlour, and up the hall staircase to her
room; leaving us all in the amazement which had held us motionless and
silent throughout the scene.
Philip stood with his hand upon the chair-back where she had wept;
pale and silent, the picture of abandonment and sorrow.
CHAPTER VI.
_Ned Comes Back, with an Interesting Tale of a Fortunate Irishman._
Before any of us knew what to say, a soft tread in the library
announced the approach of Mr. Cornelius. He entered unaware of the
scene that had just terminated, and with the stormy character of which
on Margaret's part, nothing could have been in greater contrast than
the quiescent atmosphere that ever accompanied the shy, low-speaking
pedagogue. His presence diffused peace and quietude; and more than
formerly was this the case of late, since he had resumed an intention
of entering the Presbyterian ministry.
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