“What do you mean, woman? Are you going back on your own husband?” gasped the frightened wretch, in a hoarse whisper. “Are you, Mary?”
“Not yet,” answered the woman. “But no wonder you think so, for I’m going to do a queer thing for once!”
“What? What is that?”
“I’m going to speak the truth, and shame—Well, no matter.”
“Mary!”
“Yes! That’s my name. Mary Boyce. Tell Mr. Mahone that the old name is good enough for me and my baby; but then we don’t wear French caps and pink streamers, and no young lady is yearning to give me five thousand dollars for disgracing innocent people! Such things don’t often come in the way of a poor woman, who goes out to day’s washing to support herself and her child, besides handing over her hard earnings to the man who wants to leave her.”
“Mary! Mary! Listen to me! You are mistaken! Some wicked person has been telling you lies!”
Boyce caught his sister-in-law by the arm, driven frantic by her words.
She tore herself from his hold, and hurrying up to the judge, broke in upon him.
“Sir! Yer honor! I know all about this case! That young man standing there is Jared Boyce, my husband’s brother. Swear me, please. Let me tell the story with my hand on the Bible.”