"Yell—you little fool,—yell," she whispered.
Obedient to his "mother's" commands, and much to Milton's disgust, the boy started to cry in close imitation of his elder.
Elaine was still holding the paper in her hands when they entered.
"What does all this mean?" she demanded.
"Weepy Mary," between sobs, managed to blurt out, "You are Miss Elaine Dodge, aren't you? Well, it means that your father married me when I was only seventeen and this boy is his son—your half brother."
"No—never," cried Elaine vehemently, unable to restrain her disgust.
"He never married again. He was too devoted to the memory of my mother."
"Weepy Mary" smiled cynically. "Come with me and I will show you the church records and the minister who married us."
"You will?" repeated Elaine defiantly. "Well, I'll just do as you ask.
Mr. Bennett shall go with me."
"No, no, Miss Dodge—don't go. Leave the matter to me," urged Bennett. "I will take care of HER. Besides, I must be in court in twenty minutes."
Elaine paused, but she was thoroughly aroused.