James Campbell went down to the back parlor, where he found his wife and daughter seated at their needlework.
“Jennie, my darling,” he said, gently laying his hand upon her head, “Montgomery has just asked to see you. Will you come to him?”
“Oh, papa! I cannot! I cannot!” she replied, with a shiver.
“Not come to a dying—yes, I must say it,” he added, after a painful hesitation—“husband, when he sends for you?”
“He has forfeited that name, papa,” very firmly replied the wronged wife.
“But you must forgive him, my child.”
“I do forgive him.”
“Well, then, you must come with me to him.”
“Oh, papa, I cannot! Indeed I cannot!”
“Then you do not forgive him, although he is dying?”