"Please tell me, Cousin John, what it is I have done, what it is you
complain of?" she broke in.
Angered by the interruption, for there is nothing a man like John Heron
hates worse, he snapped out:
"You have been trying to snare the affections of my son; you have even
cast lascivious eyes at the stranger within our gates."
The blood rushed to Ida's face; then she laughed outright, the laugh of
desperation; for indeed, she despaired of convincing these stupid
people of her innocence. The laugh naturally exasperated John Heron,
and his gaunt face grew pallid for an instant.
"I understand!" he said. "You treat our remonstrances with scorn, you
scoff at our rebuke."
"Yes; I am afraid I can't help it, Cousin John," said Ida. "I am sorry
that you should think me so wicked and so--dangerous, and I quite agree
with Isabel and her mother that if I am as bad as you say, I am not fit
to live in a respectable house and with--decent people. It would be
useless for me to assure you that you are all ridiculously mistaken."
"My wife and daughter saw with their own eyes. I am informed that my
son is at this very moment in bed, prostrated by your heartless
conduct; you have trifled with that most delicate and sacred of things,
a human heart.
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