"And I want this thing cleared up, too," put in Balcome. "Wallace, you're going to marry my daughter. Why did you lie to me about this young woman's name?"
Mrs. Milo went to take her place beside her son. "Do you mean," she demanded, "that you're both trying to find my dear boy at fault?—to cover someone else's wrongdoing." She stared at Farvel defiantly.
"Please, mother!" Wallace pushed her not too gently aside. Then he faced the other men, his features working with the effort of control. "Well, it—it was for—for Miss Crosby's sake," he explained. "I knew she didn't want to be found—I knew it because she was so scared when she saw me, and ran. And—and then Hattie; you know Hattie's never cared an awful lot for me. And I was afraid—I was afraid she might—she might wonder——" He choked.
"Hattie," repeated Balcome.
A strange look came into Farvel's eyes. "What has Miss Balcome to do with it?" he asked.
"Nothing! Nothing!"—it was Clare. She gave Wallace a warning glance.
"I thought it might worry her," he added, weakly.
Farvel seemed to sense a falsehood. "You can't convince me," he said.
"You've known the truth all along—ever since she went away. And you
know why she went.—Don't you? Don't you?" Again his voice rose.
He advanced almost threateningly.
"No! No! I swear it!"
"No!" echoed Clare.