A TEST OF STRENGTH
When Catherine saw the furious look on Barbara's face as she descended
from the platform the night of the election, she avoided a meeting and
went to bed pleading a headache.
Early the next morning Barbara rapped for entrance, forced her way in,
and stood, tense with anger, before the older woman, her eyes red from
the long vigil of a sleepless night.
"You avoided me last night----"
Catherine laughed.
"My dear, I never saw you in quite such a rage. It might be serious if
it were not so silly."
"You'll find it serious before you are through with this performance,"
Barbara retorted, angrily.
"Remember, I am in supreme authority now. Don't you dare speak to me
in that manner, you ungrateful little wretch!"
"I'll dare to tell you the truth--even if you were the mother who bore
me--even if I had not repaid you a hundredfold for every dollar you
have spent on me."
"Hush, hush, my dear, I do not wish to quarrel," Catherine said,
recovering herself. "I know your pride is wounded over your defeat.
I've watched your growing vanity in high office with much amusement
for the past year."
"I'm not thinking of myself," Barbara said with emphasis.
"Of course not--what woman ever does?" Catherine sneered.
"I am glad to be relieved of the annoyance of such a position. But
your treatment of the brave and daring young spirit who conceived this
colony and created its wealth and influence----"
"Am I responsible?"
"Yes. Herman is incapable of conceiving such a plot without your
suggestion. It is your work. You have always loved luxury and power."
"Perhaps I love a man also," Catherine interrupted, as her full
sensuous lips curled in a curious smile.
"Yes, I give you credit for that too," the girl admitted. "Though I
confess the secret of your infatuation for that hulking brute has
always been one of the black mysteries of life to me."
"When you're older," again the round lips quivered with a smile,
"perhaps you will understand. And now, my child, I've been patient
with you. But don't you ever again call Herman a brute in my
presence."
"Take care he doesn't prove it to you!" the girl warned.
Catherine suddenly paled.
"What do you mean by that?" she whispered, glancing about the room.
"Nothing! nothing! nothing! Only that in every deed of the devil there
is the seed of death. You have planted the seed. The harvest is sure."
"My dear----"
"Don't call me that again! I hate you!" Barbara spoke with deliberate
passion.
"Have you gone mad?" Catherine cried, with impatience.
"Yes, mad with hatred. From to-day we are enemies, and I'll hate you
forever!"
The older woman looked at her in astonishment and spoke with a
deliberate sneer:
"As you like. Remember, then, from this moment that you are a servant
under my command. I am no longer your foster-mother. Leave this room
instantly, take your things to the domestic servants' quarters, and
report to the head-woman for duty in the corridors of this wing of the
building."
"And you think I'll submit to this?" Barbara gasped.
Catherine rang the bell, and Barbara gazed at her with a look of
mingled terror and rage. A sudden light flashed in her brown eyes.
"You mean this?"
"I'll show you in a moment," was the calm reply.
"Then it's war between us," Barbara cried.
She sprang to the door and Catherine caught her arm.
"Where are you going?"
"To Herman."
"He cannot interfere with my decisions."
Barbara threw her off and bounded through the door crying:
"We shall see!"
The girl rushed past the guard at the door of Wolf's office, trembling
with rage, her eyes filled with blinding tears.
Wolf sprang to his feet in astonishment and met her with outstretched
hands.
"What's the matter, child?" he asked as his big coarse fists closed
over the hot little fingers and his gray eyes lighted at the sight of
her dishevelled hair and bare throat.
Barbara choked back the sobs, and looked appealingly into Wolf's face.
"We have quarrelled about last night. You understand, Herman.
Catherine has ordered me to leave my room and join the servants in
the halls. You--you will not allow me to be degraded thus--will you?"
Wolf drew the trembling girl into his arms, pressed her close a
moment, stroked her curls with his gnarled hand, and his face flushed
with a look of triumph.
"Don't worry, dear, I'll protect you," he answered, bending and
kissing her forehead. "Go back to your room, and if any one dares to
disturb you, call for me."
Barbara murmured through her tears:
"Thank you, Herman."
Wolf's eyes sparkled as he watched the graceful little figure proudly
leave the room.