“And what did our Wynnette say to that?” inquired Mrs. Force, with a smile.
“She answered: ‘Well? It is written that a man shall forsake his father and his mother and cleave to his wife; but it is nowhere written that a woman shall forsake her darling brother to cleave to another fellow.’ And she hugged me tighter and kissed me closer than before.”
“And little Elva?” inquired the lady.
“Sweet Elva! Tender, loving Elva! She could not ever have been sweeter, kinder, tenderer to me than she has always been. Elva is the sweetest of all my sweet sisters.”
“She is a dear child,” breathed the lady. Then, after a little pause—“And Rosemary?” she inquired.
“Mother, with your consent—and I am sure we shall have your consent—Rosemary will be my wife. Dear, true-hearted little mite! She would have given herself to me even if I had been nothing more than a little skipper’s mate, under the ban of suspected piracy! Her love for me was so warm—her faith in me so true—I am glad that I have the rank and wealth to offer her which will make me acceptable to her relations. But, mother, dear, Gen. Anglesea is waiting to speak to you.”
“Then go and bring him in; and, Roland, you need not retire,” said the lady.
CHAPTER XLVIII
THE MEETING OF OLD FRIENDS
Angus Anglesea entered the room, ushered in by Roland and followed by Mr. Force.
Mrs. Force arose from her chair to meet her old friend, who took her hand and bowed over it respectfully.