“Do you mean that Maggie is to give up her engagement to Mr. Frank Buxton?” asked his mother.
“Yes. It would never have come to anything, one might see that. Old Buxton would have held out against it till doomsday. And, sooner or later, Frank would have grown weary. If Maggie had had any spirit, she might have worked him up to marry her before now; and then I should have been spared even this fright, for they would never have set the police after Mrs. Frank Buxton’s brother.”
“Why, dearest, Edward, the police are not after you, are they?” said Mrs. Browne, for the first time alive to the urgency of the case.
“I believe they are though,” said Edward. “But after what Mr. Buxton promised this morning, it does not signify.”
“He did not promise anything,” said Maggie.
Edward turned sharply to her, and looked at her. Then he went and took hold of her wrists with no gentle grasp, and spoke to her through his set teeth.
“What do you mean, Maggie?—what do you mean?” (giving her a little shake.) “Do you mean that you’ll stick to your lover through thick and thin, and leave your brother to be transported? Speak, can’t you?”
She looked up at him, and tried to speak, but no words came out of her dry throat. At last she made a strong effort.
“You must give me time to think. I will do what is right, by God’s help.”
“As if it was not right—and such can’t—to save your brother,” said he, throwing her hands away in a passionate manner.