When Harry uttered the words “My wife!” his brother looked from one to the other for a few moments without a word; then, in a low, sullen voice, he said:
“You have tricked me and deceived me, both of you. It was very clever—very clever indeed, but hardly wise. I won’t take up your time any longer now.” Then, turning to Annie, he continued, “I am much obliged to you for your kind welcome. I must apologize for having brought down your husband’s anger upon you; but, you see, you left me rather in the dark.” Then to Harry—“You will hear from me in a day or two. Our father made me promise to provide for you, and I have a proposal to make which I don’t think you will find ungenerous. Send me an answer as quickly as you can.”
He shook his brother’s hand and then Annie’s and left the room. Harry turned to his wife, looking rather anxious.
“He is going to do something nasty, Annie—I am sure of it. I know George’s manner when he is spiteful, and our chances look very bad, darling. No more Paris, no more pretty gowns, for the present, at any rate!”
But Annie did not answer. With trembling fingers she was pulling to pieces the flower which had fallen from her throat.
“Why, Annie, what is the matter? You look ill—you are crying!”
“I am not ill,” said she, repulsing him. “I am heart-sick, miserable.”
“But you mustn’t give way like that, my darling. George will have to come round. He sha’n’t make my wife spoil her pretty eyes.”
“It is not George,” she said, with fire. “Do you think I am such a coward as to mind not having pretty dresses? What was that he said about forgery?”
“Oh, nothing to make such a fuss about!” answered the young fellow sulkily. “I was hard up, I had no money for our wedding trip, and I couldn’t help it. It wasn’t as if I committed a crime, and copied somebody else’s name, it was my own father’s. I knew it would be all right, and so it was. He hushed it up directly, and said hardly anything about it.”