Her lips quivered and her bosom heaved as he asked the question.
“What everyone must soon know, Tom,” she answered; “what you are and must be to me.”
An expression of great annoyance contracted Henderson’s features.
“And you mean to say you have talked to this woman?” he said, angrily.
“I have not said much,” she replied, half-sullenly, “but she knows.”
“Then you are a fool for your pains.”
He said this roughly enough, and a sudden rush of tears filled the poor girl’s eyes as he spoke.
“It can’t go on, Tom!” she cried, piteously, “your father’s dead now; you know you always promised to marry me when your father died.”
“This is folly,” muttered Henderson, under his thick mustache.
“What is folly?” asked the girl, sharply, looking up.