"Um!…We'll come to that." He got up and went to the door. From thence he shouted—the word is used advisedly—for his wife and daughter. "Mamma…. Hilda. Come here right off." He had decided that Bonbright's affairs stood in need of woman's counsel.
Mrs. Lightener appeared first. "Why, Bonbright!" she exclaimed.
"Where's Hilda?" asked Lightener. "Need her, too."
"She's coming, dear," said Mrs. Lightener.
There are people whose mere presence brings relief. Perhaps it is because their sympathy is sure; perhaps it is because their souls were given them, strong and simple, for other souls to lean upon. Mrs. Lightener was one of these. Before she knew why Bonbright was there, before she uttered a word, he felt a sense of deliverance. His necessities seemed less gnawing; there was a slackening of taut nerves….
Then Hilda appeared. "Evening, Bonbright," she said, and gave him her hand.
"Let's get down to business," Lightener said. "Tell 'em, Bonbright."
"I'm going to marry Ruth Frazer to-morrow noon," he said, boldly.
Mrs. Lightener was amazed, then disappointed, for she had come to hope strongly that she would have this boy for a son. She liked him, and trusted in his possibilities. She believed he would be a husband to whom she could give her daughter with an easy heart…. Hilda felt a momentary shock of surprise, but it passed quickly. Like her father, she was sudden to pounce upon the concealed meaning of patent facts—and she had spent the morning with Ruth. She was first to speak.
"So you've decided to throw me over," she said, with a smile…. "I don't blame you, Bonbright. She's a dear."