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 gentleman than you’ll ever know how to be.” She stopped, stamped her foot, and her self-control began to slip.

“Angus Burke is a gentleman,” she said, “and I like him and I’m proud of him…. I don’t know but I would marry him if he should ask me, so there!” Then she finished, lips white, eyes flashing, “Why shouldn’t I?”

Malcolm was as angry as she, and anger gave him courage. “Because he’s the son of a pauper and a thief. He’s a criminal, and just because he’s fooling people now, don’t think he can keep it up. The day will come when he’ll see the inside of a jail again, because it’s in his blood…. Go ahead. Marry him if you want to, and see how you’ll like it…. You, with all your talk about family and ancestors…. If you had any children they’d be proud of their father’s ancestors, wouldn't they?” He stopped suddenly, frightened by what he had said, by this inadvertent allusion to future children, a matter to which Rainbow does not allude.

Lydia clutched her skirt with both hands, her fingers crushed the fabric. She was a picture of fury, and Malcolm drew back a step in real fear lest she should strike him. She could have struck him, trampled him at that moment…. She did not move. Then, suddenly, terrifyingly, she began to sob, great, deep, rending sobs!