“See here, sir! Are you going to discuss private family matters in the presence of this person?” demanded Clay Legg.
“‘This person,’ sir, is my beloved wife. I have no secrets from her. She already knows as much as I do myself, and as much as I have to tell you,” replied John Legg, speaking for the first time with some severity.
“Tell me one thing, if you please, sir.”
“What is that?”
“Am I personally concerned in what you are about to communicate in the presence of a stranger?”
“No, not personally—not at all interested except through your sister.”
“Then that is her concern. If she choose——” And he turned on his heel and left his sentence unfinished.
“You had better let me go, John, dear, if the young people object to my presence during this interview,” said Julia gently.
“My daughter, do you object to my wife’s presence here while I make the revelation of which she knows the whole nature?” whispered John Legg to the agonized girl on his bosom.
“Oh! why should I object to anything? I know—before you tell me—that your dreadful news—concerns some crime of my wretched husband! If not a murder, that would hang him, then a forgery or some other felony that will send him to penal servitude, and will, in any case, be known all over England to-morrow. Let whom you like hear the horrid story,” replied the woman.