he cried. "You are now mistress of yourself, you have money—as much as you want; now you will shake me off. Now you will desert the man who stood between you and your fool. You will go off with him and forget me. It shall not be." He clutched his hands into his sides, "It never shall be."
"I will not listen to this. I will not endure such words," she exclaimed. "Remain here and cool." Then she left the room, and, walking across the pasture to the landing-place, extended her hand with a smile to George. It was a relief to her to be away for a while from the gloom and savagery of the man to whom she was bound for life. In her simplicity and guilelessness she would not believe that there was any wrong in meeting the friend of her childhood, her almost brother. She needed some light on her sad life, and the light shone from him.
"My dear Glory," he said, "I am delighted to see you. What a colour there is in your cheeks! Has the prophet been in his frenzies again? I fear so. You must not allow it. You should not endure it."
"How can I help it, George? it is the man's nature to rave; he has it in his blood. I almost fear he will go mad like his poor brother."
"The sooner the better."
"Do not say that. You do not know how dreadful was the condition of that miserable wretch."
"I do say it, Glory, dearest! I say it, because the sooner you are freed from this tyranny and torture, the better for both of us."
"How so?"
"Glory, dear! is it true that you have been left a small fortune?"
"Yes, it is true. It seems that there is money in various securities, the savings of Charles Pettican's life, and they bring in something like three hundred pounds a year. Sometimes it may be less, sometimes perhaps more."
"And is this money absolutely your own?"
"Entirely."
"You may do with it what you like?"
"Yes, altogether; even Elijah cannot touch it. I will give you all if you like, or as much as you like."
