“Sent for you?” they echoed in unison, their voices raised in pitch.
“Yes,” he said, rising and throwing back his strong shoulders in a gesture his mother remembered well. “I don’t know why I should n’t tell you, mother. She said she had been proud as long as she could bear it.”
The situation was too overwhelmingly surprising for the women to grasp it at once. Their knitting lay neglected in their laps while they tried to take in the full meaning of this wonderful thing.
“It is n’t her pride,” old Sarah said softly. “’T ’s his; but she would n’t say nothin’ against her father if she was to be killed for it.”
“Is she in the house?” he asked.
“No; she ’s down to the shore,” his mother answered, with a gasp.
At that moment sounded from the house the tinkle of a bell. The two women started like guilty things surprised.
“Oh, my good gracious!” ejaculated Hannah under her breath.
“What is that?” demanded George.