“Yes, but wait a minute,—you don’t know who she is.”
“And I don’t care! I mean, I know you’d love only a dear, innocent nature,—but tell me all about her.”
Miss Prall’s plain face was lighted with happy smiles of interest and eager anticipation, and she drew her chair nearer her nephew as she waited for him to speak.
Bates looked at her, dreading to shatter her hopes,—as he knew his next words must do.
“Well, to begin with,—she is Dorcas Everett.”
Miss Prall’s eyes opened in a wide, unbelieving stare, her face paled slowly, her very lips seemed to grow white, so intense and concentrated was her anger.
“No!” she said, at last, in a low tense voice, “you don’t mean that. Richard! you can’t mean it,—after all I’ve done for you, after all I’ve hoped for you,—and,—I’ve loved you so——”
“Now, auntie, listen; just you forget and forgive all this old feud business,—for my sake,—and Dorcas’; be noble, rise above your old, petty quarrel with Mrs Everett, and give us your bond of peace as a wedding present.”
His pleading tones, his hopeful smile held Miss Prall’s attention for a moment, and then she blazed forth:
“Richard Bates, I cannot believe it. Ingrate! Snake in the grass! To deceive me,—to carry on an affair like this, for you must have done so,—under my very nose, and keep it all so sly! Dorcas Everett! daughter of my enemy,—my long time foe,—the most despicable woman in the world! And, knowing all about it, you deliberately cultivate the acquaintance of her daughter and secretly go on to the point of wanting to marry her! I can’t believe it! It’s too monstrous! Were there no other girls in the world,—in your life,—that you must choose that one? You can’t have been so diabolical as to have done it purposely to break my heart!”