He stood there a moment longer, looking blankly at the two elder women as they bustled about the prostrate girl, and then he gave a bitter, defiant laugh. His fate was too strong for him. No one was in the mood to listen to any explanation; it was all over! "I'm coming," he said to the goddess. "I may as well; I'm not wanted here." And, with a smothered curse, he dashed blindly from the room, and out into the foggy street. AN APPEAL XII. "If you did know to whom I gave the ring, If you did know for whom I gave the ring, And how unwillingly I left the ring, You would abate the strength of your displeasure." _Merchant of Venice._ Leander strode down the street in a whirl of conflicting emotions. At the very moment when he seemed to have prevailed over Miss Parkinson's machinations, his evil fate had stepped in and undone him for ever! What would become of him without Matilda? As he was thinking of his gloomy prospects, he noticed, for the first time, that the statue was keeping step by his side, and he turned on her with smothered rage. "Well," he began, "I hope you're satisfied?" "Quite, Leander, quite satisfied; for have I not found you?" "Oh, you've found me right enough," he replied, with a groan--"trust you for that! What I should like to know is, how the dickens you did it?" "Thus," she replied: "I awoke, and it was dark, and you were not there, and I needed you; and I went forth, and called you by your name. And you, now that you have hearkened to my call, you are happy, are you not?" "Me?" said Leander, grimly. "Oh, I'm regular jolly, I am! Haven't I reason?" "Your sisters seemed alarmed at my coming," she said. "Why?" "Well," said Leander, "they aren't used to having marble goddesses dropping in on them promiscuously." "The youngest wept: was it because I took you from her side?" "I shouldn't wonder," he returned gruffly. "Don't bother me!" When they were both safely within the little upper room again, he opened the cupboard door wide. "Now, marm," he said, in a voice which trembled with repressed rage, "you must be tired with the exercise you've took this evening, and I'll trouble you to walk in here." "There are many things on which I would speak with you," she said. "You must keep them for next time," he answered roughly. "If you can see anything, you can see that just now I'm not in a temper for to stand it, whatever I may be another evening." "Why do I suffer this language from you?" she demanded indignantly--"why?" "If you don't go in, you'll hear language you'll like still less, goddess or no goddess!" he said, foaming. "I mean it. I've been worked up past all bearing, and I advise you to let me alone just now, or you'll repent it!" "Enough!" she said haughtily, and stalked proudly into the lonely niche, which he closed instantly. As he did so, he noticed his Sunday papers lying still folded on his table, and seized one eagerly.