There has been a second scene between Lady Rylton and Sir
Maurice--this time a terrible scene. She had sent for him directly
after dinner, and had almost commanded him to marry Miss Bolton. She
had been very bitter in her anger, and had said strange things of
Marian. Sir Maurice had come off triumphant, certainly, if greatly
injured, and with his heart on fire. He had, at all events, sworn he
would not marry the little Bolton girl. Those perpetual
insinuations! What had his mother meant by saying that Marian was
laying herself out to catch Lord Dunkerton, an old baron in the
neighbourhood, with some money and a damaged reputation? That could
not be true--he would not believe it. That old beast! Marian would
not so much as look at him. And yet--had she not been very civil to
him at that ball last week?

Coming out from his mother's boudoir, a perfect storm of fury in his
heart, he finds himself face to face with Marian. Something in his
face warns her. She would have gone by him with a light word or two,
but, catching her by the wrist, he draws her into a room on his
left.

"You have had another quarrel with your mother," says she
sympathetically, ignoring the anger blazing in his eyes. "About that
silly girl?"

"No. About you!"

His tone is short--almost violent.