Then as a human sound from a tomb, came Frederick's voice. Madelene staggered back. She realized that not for one single instant had she doubted she would find her husband there. And he was there! She'd heard his voice passionately insisting something. Red fire flashed in front of her eyes.
Without thought of consequences, she flung open the door and stood on the threshold, breathless and crimson, in all her indignant wifehood. Frederick stood near the chair in which sat Tessibel. In one single moment Madelene sent an appraising glance over the girl huddled in the wooden rocker--a woman's glance, mercilessly discovering her condition. Then her blazing eyes came back to Frederick. He had not spoken at her appearance--he had only reeled backward a few steps.
"You see I followed you," said Madelene in cold, metallic tones. "I knew you were coming here when you left home."
Tessibel got up slowly, went forward, and closed the door. Once more the man she loved had brought humiliation upon her.
"He were just a goin' to go!" she whispered, and she went back and dropped into her chair.
"Oh, he was, eh?" Madelene laughed harshly. "It's very good of you to let him go. I'll give you to understand my husband--"
She made a rapid step toward Tess, whose head went up instantly. The red-brown eyes battled an instant with the blue, stopping Madelene's progress. Frederick, stung to action, reached forth and grasped his wife's arm.
"Madelene!" he exclaimed. His tone brought flashing eyes upon him.
"You think I'm going to stand tamely by and watch you come here to see her?... You both think I'm a fool, I suppose. Well, I'm not such a fool as I look!"
Defiantly, the speaker surveyed her husband up and down. "I knew very well you intended coming here. That's why I asked--you to take me today and why I--followed you. I've had hard work to make myself believe you'd leave me for--"
Her scintillating look swept again over Tess from head to foot. Her eyes drew down at the corners; so did her lips. It dawned dazedly on Tess how much Madelene looked like her brother. Then, suddenly Mrs. Graves laughed, a note of triumph riding in her tones. She faced Frederick and throwing out both hands, disdainfully, at the squatter girl huddled in the chair, cried, "My God, look at her! If you've any eyes, you'll see ..." and turning upon Tessibel, "Were you trying to pass off on my husband a spurious--" The scorn in the contemptuous tones of the shrill voice stung like a whip lash.
The appeal gathering slowly in Tess' eyes was but a dumb response to the other woman's taunting, bitter words. She could not have spoken had her life been at stake. She crouched down in terrified shame.