The words were stern. The old man trembled in all his limbs, but still there was strength both in his look and utterance.
"Shame, no; it is not shame for him—you might be sure of me there," she said, with pathetic simplicity. "I never mentioned him, and never will. So don't speak of shame and Nelson in one breath. The disgrace is mine, you know; and the sorrow, he shall never hear of it—never."
The old lady looked imploringly at her husband, and shrank back into the shadows of the room, wringing her hands.
"And this is my son! He brings ruin on an innocent, thoughtless girl, and then abandons her for years—her and his parents."
"Ruin! No, not that!" cried Katharine. "Shame! No! no! It is I that somehow have brought disgrace on him! Only I never told his name—never will ask for it! Don't be afraid. I didn't come for that—only to beg a hiding-place for one day. Those men will never know that I have any right to come here. Let them search. If they tear the house down, nothing will be found under the rafters. I've got the paper here!"
CHAPTER XLI.
THE MARRIAGE CERTIFICATE.
She pressed one hand to her bosom, and smiled proudly, as if they ought to be grateful for something she had done.
"The paper—what paper?" questioned Mrs. Thrasher.
"That which the minister gave us. It is more than three months, and he told me not to wait longer than that."