“God help me! I don’t know what to believe! But I tried to say I did it—only I couldn’t carry it out—nor can you, dear.”
“Nor can father, then. Oh, mother, I did do that shooting! I did! I did!”
“Every assertion like that makes me more certain you didn’t,” and Mrs. Wheeler fondly caressed the head that lay on her breast. Maida was not hysterical, but so deeply troubled that she was nervously unstrung and now gave way to torrents of tears, and then ceased crying and bravely announced her plans.
“Please, mother darling, don’t talk about that. Suppose I tell you that even that matter will be all set right if I marry Curtis Keefe—and by no other means. Even Mr. Stone can’t find any other suspect than us three Wheelers. He doesn’t at all believe in the ‘bugler.’ Nobody does.”
“I do.”
“Only as a last chance to free father and me. Mother it’s an awful situation. Worse, far worse than you know anything about. Won’t you trust me to do what I know to be right—and when I tell you I must marry Mr. Keefe, won’t you believe me? And not only believe me but help me. Help me in every way you can—for God knows I need help.”
“What can I do, darling,” asked Sara Wheeler, awed by the look of utter hopelessness on Maida’s face.
“Stand by me, mother. Urge father not to oppose this marriage. Help me to tell Jeffrey—you tell him, can’t you, mother? I can’t—oh, I can’t!”
Again Sara Wheeler broke out into protestations against this sacrifice of her loved daughter, and again Maida had to reaffirm her decision, until, both worn out, they separated, Sara promising to do just as Maida wished in all things.
And in fulfillment of this promise, Sara told young Allen.