She ordered her father’s supper therefore with a light heart, and went into the dining-room to share it with him gratified and glad. Mr. Churchill also seemed in fairly good spirits, and ate his food with excellent appetite. Then, when the meal was over, he commenced to smoke, and May was just contemplating leaving the room to indulge in her sweet thoughts alone, when her father looked up and addressed her.
“May, I went to see Mrs. Bradshaw this afternoon,” he said.
“Yes,” answered May, somewhat indifferently, for the subject of Mrs. Bradshaw was very unpleasant to her.
“And we have fixed to be married to-morrow morning,” continued Mr. Churchill, in his quiet, determined way.
“To-morrow morning!” echoed May, utterly surprised.
“Yes, what is the good of waiting? But it is to be quite quiet; she did not wish you even to know until it was over. But you have been a good little daughter to me, and therefore I do not care to keep it a secret from you, and I hope also you will be a good daughter to your new mother.”
May’s face flushed painfully.
“She can never be a mother to me,” she said.
“My dear, that is folly. To-morrow she will be your father’s wife, and will take her place here, of course, as mistress. And I hope you two will get on well together. If you are wise you will do so.”
May did not speak.