"But you heard her, Richard!"
"Yes, father, I heard her," he answered. "But you see Stella is my wife."
"Your—" Mr. Hazlewood's lips refused to speak the word. He fell back again in his chair and dropped his face in his hands. "Oh, no!"
"It's true," said Dick. "I have rooms in London, you know. I went to
London last week. Stella came up on Monday. It was my doing, my wish.
Stella is my wife."
Mr. Hazlewood groaned aloud.
"But she has tricked you, Richard," and Stella agreed.
"Yes, I tricked you, Dick. I did," she said miserably, and she drew herself from his arm. But he caught her hand.
"No, you didn't." He led her over to his father. "That's where you both make your mistake. Stella tried to tell me something on the very night when we walked back from this house to her cottage and I asked her to marry me. She has tried again often during the last weeks. I knew very well what it was—before you turned against her, before I married her. She didn't trick me."
Mr. Hazlewood turned in despair to Henry Thresk.
"What do you say?" he asked.