At this, Erma, whom humiliation makes sensitive, draws back and mutters, "Do you fear my touch will contaminate her?"
"Not at all," says Mrs. Livingston. "You mistake me, dear Erma. I want to beg you to come with us to California. You mustn't think of what Ollie in his agitation said to you."
"I don't," answers Erma. "Thank God that wounded my pride, but not my heart!" For in all this cruel humiliation she has been conscious of one joy—that any chance of union with Oliver Livingston is now forever ended.
"You must reconsider your rash determination," entreats the widow.
"Impossible!"
"In your present excited state you had better not see your father."
"Now it is necessary that I see my father—more so than ever."
"You cannot live with him with those awful women."
"Oh, don't fear for me," says the girl. "There are others who will protect me here, if he will not."
"Who?" gasps the widow.