The Evil Genius: A Domestic Story — page 76: what you’re looking at

Machine-transcribed from the original scan — historical spelling and the odd misread are preserved.

THE EVIL GENIUS. 65 ‘* Yes.” “Did she say anything more to you?” ‘‘T didn’t give her the chance; I don’t like Mrs. Presty. You look worn and worried, Herbert. Is there anything wrong?” ‘‘ If there is, my dear fellow, you will hear of it to-morrow.” So they parted. Comfortably established in the drawing-room, Mrs. Presty had just opened her favorite newspaper. Her only companion was Linley’s black poodle, resting at her feet. On the opening of the door, the dog rose, advanced to caress his master, and Jooked up in Linley’s face. If Mrs. Presty’s attention had hap- pened to be turned that way, she might have seen, in the faith- ful creature’s sudden and silent retreat, a warning of her son-in- law’s humor at that moment. But she was, or assumed to be, interested in her reading; and she deliberately overlooked Lin- ley’s appearance. After waiting a little to attract her attention, he quietly took the newspaper out of her hand. ‘¢ What does this mean ?” Mrs. Presty asked. ‘‘It means, ma’am, that I have something to say to you.” “‘Apparently, something that can’t be said with common civil- ity? Beas rude as you please; Iam well used to it.” Linley wisely took no notice of this. ‘¢ Since you have lived at Mount Morven,” he proceeded, ‘I think you have found me, on the whole, an easy man to get on with. At the same time, when ldo make up my mind to be master in my own house, I am master.” Mrs. Presty crossed her hands placidly on her lap, and asked: ** Master of what?” ‘‘Master of your suspicions of Miss Westerfield. You are free, of course, to think of her and of me as you please. What I forbid is the expression of your thoughts—either by way of hints to my brother, or officious communications with my wife. Don’t suppose that | am afraid of the truth. Mrs. Linley shall know more than you think for, and shall know it to-morrow; not from you, but from me!” Mrs. Presty shook her head compassionately. ‘My good sir, surely you know me too well to think that I am to be disposed of in that easy way? Must I remind you that your wife’s mother has ‘ the cunning of the devil?” Linley recognized his own words. ‘‘So you were listening among the trees!” he said. ‘* Yes; I was listening; and I have only to regret that I didn’t hear more. Let us return to our subject. I don’t trust my daughter’s interests—my much-injured daughter’s interests—in your hands. They are not clean hands, Mr. Linley. I have a duty to do; and I shall do it to-morrow.”’ ‘*No, Mrs. Presty, you won’t doit to-morrow.” ‘Who will prevent me?” ‘*T shall prevent you.” ‘‘In what way, if you please ‘‘T don’t think it necessary to answer that question. Myserv: ants will have their instructions, and ] shall see myself that my orders are obeyed,” ECORNICLO© S (E() im