Suddenly the door was flung open with unrestricted force and noise and John raised his head to reprove the offender. Instead of this, he rose from his chair and with open arms took his brother to his heart. "Why, Harry!" he cried. "Mother will be glad to see you. I was thinking of you while I dressed myself this morning. When did you reach England?"
"I got to London three days ago."
"Never! I wouldn't tell mother that! She will think you ought to have been at Hatton three days ago."
"I had to look after Lucy, first thing. I found her, John, in Bradford in a sad state."
"I don't understand you, Harry."
"Her father had left her with a very strict aunt, and she was made to do things she never had done—work about the house, you know—and she looked ill and sorrowful and my heart ached for her. Her father was away from her, and she thought I had forgotten her. The dear little woman! I married her the next day."
"Henry Hatton! What are you saying?"
"I married there and then, as it were. It was my duty to do so."
"It was your will. There was no duty in it."
"Call it what you like, John. She is now my wife and I expect you and mother will remember this."