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Volume One—Chapter Seventeen. A Vial of Wrath.
“And, pray, what are you doing here?” exclaimed Laura Bray, as she saw the tall slim form of her sister Nelly standing between her and the object of her dislike.

“Talking to Miss Bedford, if you must know, my dear sister,” said Nelly pertly; but the next moment she encountered a glance from Ella, in obedience to which she was instantly silent; and, crossing over, she kissed the pale girl lovingly, and said, “Good-night.”

But all this was not lost upon Laura, who bit her lips till Nelly had half hesitatingly quitted the room.

“What sweet obedience!” she then said sarcastically. “Really, Miss Bedford, you must give me some lessons in the art of winning people’s affections. I have no doubt that papa will satisfy you if there is any extra charge.”

Ella did not speak; but her gentle look might have disarmed animosity, as she turned her soft eyes almost appealingly towards her irate visitor. She was in some degree, though, prepared for what was coming, for Nelly had lingered behind to place her on her guard; and as she stood facing Laura she did not shrink, neither did she make answer to the taunts conveyed in those bitter words.

“I trust that you have enjoyed a pleasant evening, Miss Bedford,” continued Laura, who seemed to be working herself up, and gathering together the battalions of her wrath, ready for the storm she meant to thunder upon the defenceless head before her. But still there was no reply in words—nothing but the calm pleading gaze from the soft grey eyes.

“Can we make arrangements for you to be introduced to some other family, where you can carry on your intrigues?”

Still no answer—only a pitiful, almost imploring look that ought to have disarmed the most wrathful. But at this moment Ella involuntarily raised a white rose, which till then had remained concealed, as her hand hung down amidst the soft folds of her dress; and no sooner did Laura catch sight of the blossom than, interpreting the act to be one of insolent triumph, she threw herself upon the shrinking girl, tore the flower from her hand, and flung it upon the floor, where she crushed it beneath her foot as she stamped upon it furiously.

“How dare you!” she almost shrieked, in tones that bade fair some day to rival those of Mamma Bray. “Such cowardly—such insolent acts! To dare to insult me after practising your low cunning to-day, laying your snares for my poor unworldly brother, and then setting other traps—to—to—inveigle—to entrap—There, don’t look at me with that triumphant leer! You shall be turned out of this house, into which you have gained entrance by false pretences, so as to act the part of a scheming adventuress!”

For a few moments Laura seemed as if she w............
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