"Gerty must tell you what I want," she said, nursing the glass.
Luther turned to his fiancée with an inquiring look. Something very strange must have occurred to bring Mrs. Baldwin so far.
"Mother is upset," said Gerty: "she fancies she saw her husband."
"My second," explained Mrs. Baldwin. "Not Gerty's father, who was a gentleman, but Rufus."
"The man with the blacksmith's arm and poet's soul," said Luther. "I thought he was dead and buried long ago."
"No," said the old lady. "I have never seen any announcement of his death. He is alive, and I saw him. Two nights ago I was reclining in the parlour, trying to soothe my nerves with a novel. Rufus appeared at the window, which was open, the night being warm. I shrieked aloud at the sight of his face. He ran away," finished Mrs. Baldwin, sighing.
"Didn't you light out after him?"
"I went out to rebuke him for his desertion of the twins. But he was gone like a dream. I have come to you to ask if you will advertise for Rufus. Assure him that all will be forgotten."
"Is there anything to forget?" asked Gerty.
Mrs. Baldwin suddenly sat up with energy, and her eyes glittered. No one would have thought that she possessed such spirit. "Yes," she said, in a hard voice, "there is much to forget. Rufus treated me like a brute. He always was a brute."