witted me at every turn, and now I bring you only Rose."
She faltered, awed by the glare of his infuriated eyes. "Let me explain," she begged.
He snapped her short. "There is something beneath this, something you will not tell me."
His hand sought the row of buttons on the desk and pressed one long. Almost instantly a servant glided into the room.
"My daughter Rose—have her brought here to me at once!"
In another moment the replica of his daughter Judith was ushered into his presence.
Upon this one he loosed the lightnings of his wrath without ruth. They met for the first time since she had mutinied against him, and left his roof to go to the lover whose life her father sought.
Rose suffered him in silence. His most galling recrimination educed no retort. But she listened with covert avidity, hoping that some word of his might betray the secret of her lover's fate since she had been torn from his protection. That word, however, did not come before Judith stirred her sister's temper beyond control.
In a lull in Trine's tirade, Judith chose to interject:
"Don't be so hard on the silly fool, she's not responsible, she's sick with love for that good-looking simpleton!"
