"The money, dear father?" she asked.
He smiled, and it was the last time that he ever did so.
"Like my sensible Cora," he answered. But he did not continue the subject.
"You'd best all to go now," declared Priscilla. She rose and looked straight into the eyes of her children each in turn. The girls flinched; the son went to her and kissed her.
"Don't you think this will make any difference to me," said Heathman. "You're a damned sight too good a mother for me, whether or no—or for them women either; and this man here—our father, I should say—needn't worrit about you, for I'll always put you afore anything else in the world."
"And so will I, mother," said Phyllis.
"Of course, we all will," added Cora; "and the great thing must be for us all to keep as dumb as newts about it. 'Twould never do for it to come out—for mother's sake more than ours, even. I don't say it for our sakes, but for mother's sake, and for father's good name, too."
"Such wisdom—such wisdom!" said Nathan. "You've all treated me better than I deserved—far better. And God will reward you for such high forgiveness to a wicked wretch. I'll see you all again once before I die. Promise that. Promise you'll come again, Cora."
"I will come again," she said; "and please, father, make mother promise on her oath to be quiet and sensible and not run no risks. If it got out now—you never know. We're above such small things, but many people would cold shoulder us if they heard of it. You know what people are."
Her mother looked at her without love. The girl was excited; she began to appreciate the significance of what she had heard; her eyes were wet and her voice shook.