You have come all the way over here to drive him to
desperation. You--you are a bad woman. I mean it!"
For a moment Mrs. Dawson was thrown entirely off her guard by the
unexpected attack. She rose and stretched out a quivering hand for her
carpet-bag, which she had put on the bed. She shifted it excitedly
from one hand to the other, and looked towards the door.
"Yo're jest one more uv his fool victims, I kin see that," she gasped.
"He's the deepest, blackest scoundrel on the face of the earth!"
Harriet's eyes flashed. "He's the best man I ever saw, and has had
more to put up with. You've come over here to persecute him; but you
sha'n't stay in this house. Get right out; we don't want you!"
"Why, Harriet, what on _earth_ do you mean?" exclaimed Mrs. Floyd,
suddenly entering the room.
Harriet pointed at Mrs. Dawson. "This woman has come over here to
worry the life out of Mr. Westerfelt because he didn't marry her
daughter. She wrote threatening letters to him while he was at death's
door, and is doing her best now to drive him crazy. She sha'n't stay
under this roof while I am here.
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