"It is a promise," says she.
"Yes. A promise."
"You will not change again—" nervously. "You——"
"Ah! doubt to the last," says he. "It is a promise from me to you, and of course the word of such a reprobate as you consider me can scarcely be of any avail."
"But you could not break this promise?" says she in a low voice, and with a long, long sigh.
"What trust you place in me!" said he, with an open sneer—"Well, so be it. I give you home and child. You give me——Not worth while going into the magnificence of your gifts, is it?"
"I gave you once a whole heart—an unbroken faith," says she.
"And took them back again! Child's play!" says he. "Child's promises. Well, if you will have it so, you have got a promise from me now, and I think you might say 'thank you' for it as the children do."
"I do thank you!" says she vehemently. "Does not my whole manner speak for me?" Once again her eyes filled with tears.
"So much love for the child," cries he in a stinging tone, "and not one thought for the father. Truly your professions of love were light as thistledown. There! you are not worth a thought yourself. Expend any affection you have upon your son, and forget me as soon as ever you can. It will not take you long, once I am out of your sight!"