"Well!" Mrs. Rowe said, firmly and impatiently.
Mr. Charles, stung by the manner, turned upon his victim. "Well!" he jeered, "yes, and well again, Mrs. Rowe. Is it necessary for me to explain myself? Do you think I have come to see _you_!"
"I have no money at present; I wrote you so."
"And I didn't believe you, and have come to fetch what you wouldn't send. If you think I'm going into a corner to starve for your personal satisfaction, you are very much mistaken. I'm surprised you don't understand me better by this time."
"You were a rascal, Charles, before you left school."
"School! Pretty school! D--n it, don't blame me--woman!"
Mrs. Rowe was alarmed by the outburst, lest it should wake some of the boarders.
"The Dean and his lady are sleeping overhead. If you don't respect me, think----"
"I'm not here to respect, or think about anybody. I'm cast alone into the world--tossed into it; left to shift for myself, and to be ashamed of myself; and I want a little help through it, and it's for you to give it me, and give it me YOU SHALL."
Mr. Charles held out his left hand, and slapped its open palm vehemently with his right--pantomime to indicate the exact whereabouts he had selected for the reception of Mrs. Rowe's money.
"I told you I had no money. You'll drive me from this house by bringing disgrace upon it."
"That's very good," Mr. Charles said, with a cruel laugh. "That's a capital joke."
Jane entered with coffee. "That's right," she whispered, encouragingly to Mr. Charles; "laugh and be cheerful, Mr. Charles, and make haste with your coffee."
The face of Mr. Charles blackened to night. He turned like a tiger upon the servant. "Laugh and be cheerful?" he roared; and then he raised a hoarse mock laugh, that moved Mrs. Rowe, in her agony of fear, to turn the key in the lock of her desk.
Shaking her hands wildly in the air, Jane left the room, and shut the door.
"You are an arrant coward, Charles," Mrs. Rowe hissed, leaning across the table and shaking her head violently.
Mr. Charles imitated her gesture, answering--"I am what heartless people have made me. I have been dragged up under a cloud; made the scape-goat. How often in the course of your hypocritical days have you wished me dead? You hear I've a cough; but I cannot promise you it's a churchyard one. I'm a nuisance; but I suppose I'm not responsible for my existence, Mrs. Rowe. _I_ was not consulted."