“Looks nice, doesn’t it?” said Rosalind, with a little babble of splenetic mockery. “Your niece is going to lead the Amazon march, and--in tights! She says she won’t, but she will, you know; she’ll have to give in--people always have to do that where I’m concerned. You’ll do it presently, like all the rest, and I shall leave this place with your check for fifty thousand pounds in my pocket or else these bills go up to-morrow morning, and what’s printed on them will happen to-morrow night. It doesn’t do to run foul of me, does it, now?” “I don’t know,” said Berry, in a low, level voice; “and I really don’t think that I care, either. If you have set your mind upon doing this thing, you must do it, of course. And now, if you have said all that you have to say, be good enough to relieve me of your presence. You cannot extort one copper out of me, madam, no matter what you propose to do.” CHAPTER XLVII. A VAIN THREAT. “What!” she said, in a loud, aggressive voice, “you’ll let this thing go on? You’ll let your brother’s daughter be put on the stage and made a spectacle of, and you won’t pay me my price to prevent it?” “I will not pay you one penny--no, not even one farthing--to prevent that or any other piece of blackguardism you may contemplate committing. The girl is nothing to me, less than nothing since she is your daughter. Do what you please with her; it is a matter of perfect indifference to me, but I warn you that if you take liberties with my name in the manner you propose to do, it will be actionable, and I shall instruct my lawyer to prosecute.” For one moment Rosalind stood irresolute, rage tearing at her like a ravenous wolf and the fumes of the wine she had drank mounting higher and higher until her head swam. Then, of a sudden, she lurched away from the rail of the veranda and leaped forward like a cat springing at a mouse, her two hands reaching out and shutting upon Berry’s throat. “You’re a pig, you’re a stingy, spiteful, vicious old pig!” she said, as she shook her with all her strength. “I’ll make you suffer for this! I will, as I’m a living woman! Those bills go up in the morning--do you hear me? and you can send some one to Crumplesea Opera House to-morrow night, if you think I’m afraid of your threats of prosecution and won’t disgrace your name as I said I would. Defy me, will you? You’ll see what it costs, you’ll see, you’ll see!” And here, with one final shake, she pushed from her, and scudded out of the veranda and ran dizzily down the path to the waiting vehicle. Mr. Bodwin and Mr. Milton Dante, who were anxiously awaiting her return, saw her the very instant she appeared. “I say! it is really you at last,” said Mr. Dante, as she came reeling up to the vehicle. “We began to think you were never coming, and----Hello! what’s up? You look as though you were in a dickens of a temper. Has the old girl been using you roughly, and wouldn’t she pay the price, after all?”