“Then, miss, so much the worse!” exclaimed Nellie, indignantly.
“I do not understand you,” said Margaret, in amazement.
“You do! And I wonder more than ever that you should presume to present yourself before me!” retorted the lady, raising her voice.
“Mrs. Houston, my mother was your bosom friend. Do not insult her daughter,” said Margaret, as the blood rushed to her face.
“You have dishonored your mother!” exclaimed Nellie, in a paroxysm of emotion between anger, awakened memory and grief.
“God knoweth!” replied the maiden, dropping her head and her clasped hands with a gesture of profound despair.
But the altercation had reached the ears of Colonel Houston, who now came out, saying:
“Nellie, my dear, this is not the way to meet this exigency. Good-morning, Miss Helmstedt, pray walk in and be seated. Nellie, she is but a young thing! If she has committed any grave fault, it carries its own bitter punishment, God knows. As for us, since she presents herself here again, we must continue to give her shelter and protection until the arrival of her father. Nay, Nellie, my dear, I say this must be done whatever her offences may be.”
“You too! Oh, you too, Colonel Houston!” involuntarily exclaimed Margaret, clasping her hands.
“Miss Helmstedt, my child, I am not your judge. Make a confidante of my wife, she loved your mother. Go into your apartment, Margaret. Attend her, Mrs. Houston.”