“Why are you here, Clarence? Of course I am delighted to see you, but you told me this morning that you would have to go to Buckholme to-night.”
“I did intend to, Jennie, but really, I did not dare to go out there until I knew what to do. I was going to tell you about it this morning, but there was no time; besides, I thought I might see my way clear as to what to do, during the day.”
“Do not keep me waiting any longer, Clarence,” said his wife, with a little stamp of her foot. “I am just dying to know what it is about, and you keep talking all around it without telling me what the trouble is.”
“Hadn’t we better have supper first?”
“No,” cried Jennie. “I cannot wait another minute.”
“Well, the fact is,” began Clarence, “you know all about Bertha; how the governor keeps asking me to propose to her. Of course he does not know that I already have a nice little wife of my own, and for that reason I excuse him.”
“Well, I do not,” said Jennie. “He has no business to tell you to marry anybody. But your father will have to know about our marriage some time. Mrs. Liloquist is very inquisitive, but she has not learned anything from me, except that we are very poor and we both have to work for a living. We are living dual lives, Clarence. How long shall we have to do so?”
“I cannot answer that question now,” said Clarence, “but what I am going to tell you is this: Bertha has had a letter from a friend in Paris—a lady who knew her father when he lived there. She has found out in some way about Bertha and wishes her to come and pay her a visit.”
“Well, I don’t see anything serious in that,” said Jennie. “When is she going?”
“The governor won’t let her go. It’s all my fault, too. I had a letter from Jack De Vinne saying that his brother was dead and that he was going to Paris to escort Lady Ashmont and her daughter home so they could go to the funeral. The big idiot that I was, I told the governor and he scented danger right off. You know I told you about Jack coming to see us. Well, he was going to propose to Bertha, but thought it was his duty to speak to his father first. Jack was only the second son of an earl then, and father frightened him a little by telling him that Bertha was a penniless orphan.”