"Mother, why didn't you tell me?" she asked dully, heartbrokenly. "Why did you let me come here and go to that house day after day and not know—anything?"
"Why, what—what do you mean?" All the color had drained from Helen Denby's face.
"Did you ever know a Mrs. Cobb?"
"That woman! Betty, she hasn't—has she been—talking—to you?"
Betty nodded wearily.
"Yes, she's been talking to me, and— Oh, mother, mother, why did you come here—now?" cried Betty, springing to her feet in sudden frenzy again. "How could you let me go there? And only to-day—this morning, he told me he wanted to adopt me! And you—he was going to have us both there—to live. He said he was so lonely, and that I—I made the sun shine for the first time for years. And afterwards, when I found out who he was, I thought he meant it as a salve to heal all the unhappiness he'd caused you. I thought he was trying to pay; and I told him—"
"You told him! You mean you've seen him since—Mrs. Cobb?"
"Yes. I went back. I told him—"
"Oh, Betty, Betty, what are you saying?" moaned her mother. "What have you done? You didn't tell him that way!"
"Indeed I did! I told him I knew—everything now; and that he needn't think he could wipe it out. And he wanted to see you, and I said he couldn't. I—"