"What do you mean? You cannot hang me for marrying your father," exclaimed Rose.
"No; don't raise your voice, or you may be heard. No, Rose, I cannot hang you for treachery; but, my dear, there are worse fates than neat and tidy hanging, which is over in a few minutes. I could expose your past life to my father. You know him, and you know that he would show no ruth, no mercy to deception and treachery such as yours. You know that he would turn you out of the house without money or character, destitute and degraded. What then would be your fate at your age--a fading rose past thirty-seven years old? Sooner or later, and very little later, the poor-house or the hospital. Better a sweet, tidy little hanging and be done with it, if possible."
"You are a fiend to talk to me so! a fiend! Fabian Rockharrt," exclaimed Rose, bursting into hysterical sobs and tears.
"Now, be quiet, my child; you'll raise the house, and then there will be an explosion."
"I don't care if there will be. You are cruel, savage, barbarous! I never meant to do any harm by marrying Mr. Rockharrt. I never meant to be revenged on you or anybody. I only said so because I was so excited by your desertion of me. I married the old gentleman for a refuge from the world. I meant to do my duty by him, though he is as cross as a bear with a bruised head. But do your worst; I don't care. I would just as lief die as live. I am tired of trying to be good; tired of trying to please people; tired, oh, very tired of living!"
"Come, come," said soft-hearted Mr. Fabian; "none of that nonsense. Place yourself in my hands, to be guided by me and to work for my interests, and none of these evils shall happen to you. You shall live and die in wealth and luxury, my father's honored wife, the mistress of Rockhold."
He spoke slowly, tenderly, caressingly, and as she listened to him her sobs and tears subsided and she grew calmer.
"What is it you want me to do for you? What can I do for you, indeed, powerless as I am?" she inquired at last.
"You must use all your influence with my father in my interests, and use it discreetly and perseveringly," he whispered.
"But I have no influence. Never was the young wife of an old man--and I am young in comparison to him--treated so harshly. I am not his pet; I am his slave!" she complained.