"If you hadn't lied," he fumed on, "you'd have been his wife and a respectable woman."
The girl shivered.
"Instead, you're a disgrace. Everybody in Sutherland'll know you've gone the way your mother went."
"Go away," said the girl piteously. "Let me alone."
"Alone? What will become of you?" He addressed the question to himself, not to her.
"It doesn't matter," was her reply in a dreary tone. "I've been betrayed, as my mother was. It doesn't matter what——"
"I knew it!" cried Warham, with no notion of what the girl meant by the word "betrayed." "Why didn't you confess the truth while he was here and his father was ready to marry him to you? I knew you'd been loose with him, as your Aunt Fanny said."
"But I wasn't," said Susan. "I wouldn't do such a thing."
"There you go, lying again!"
"It doesn't matter," said she. "All I want is for you to go away."