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 screaming to the servants to grab the whip. At her shout and the sight of the blow the two employees caught the whip and held it. Mrs. Gorton's fury seemed to change then and she railed like an infuriated witch.

"You'll drive me off my place, will you?—" she raged. "After all these years. Park Lauriston you're vile—you're rotten—you-you-you dog! After all I've done for you—after all I've been to you since your wife, the mother of that girl, died. Now when I'm getting old and no longer useful you'll put me off your place, will you? The day'll come when you'll be sorry—the sorriest man possible. You, with your pride of family. You'll be sorry Park Lauriston. There's justice for every wrong. This may be my punishment but neither the blood of the Carterets, nor the Beauforts of which you boast will save you. My day will come and from this time on I—I—curse you and your family."

Her hysteria seemed to subside with the imprecation pronounced in this most dramatic way, her hands uplifted and her face toward the skies. Her whitening hair, straggly and fallen in disarray, added to the weirdness and solemnity of the curse. As she lowered her head and turned away her hysteria changed to tears. Lida was clinging to her father protectingly, wide-eyed in wonder and trying to understand it all, her face toward the woman on whom she had always looked as a godmother but who was suddenly turned her enemy, fearing the imprecations and yet preserving a haughty pose.

"Yes," continued the woman addressing her words to