“He has; and more, he has twitted me, who he knew cared for Frank as a brother, with his conduct.”
“Papa,” Carry said solemnly, turning to her father, “let me thank God that I did not marry this man. A thousand times better as it is, with the shame, and the disgrace, and the sorrow, than the life I should have led with such a wretch as this. To think,” she said bitterly, “that I could have loved him and believed in him. Thank God—thank God for my escape.”
“And now, Mr. Walker,” Alice Heathcote said, “it is very late, but I must ask you to come round with me to my uncle. I cannot rest until I have shown him what a terrible wrong we have committed towards poor Frank. You will come to-morrow morning to see James?” she asked Carry, taking her hand. “It will be an act of real kindness.”
“Yes,” Carry said, “I will come without fail. Here, papa, is your hat and coat, and mind how you come back.”
CHAPTER XIV
WAITING FOR THE SHIP.
“Where is Captain Bradshaw?” was Alice Heathcote’s first question, as, escorted by Mr. Walker and the footman, she entered the house.
“In the dining-room, Miss Heathcote.”
Alice entered, followed by Mr. Walker.
“Oh, uncle,” she said, passionately, “we have been so cruel and so wrong. It has been such a terrible mistake after all, and poor Frank is quite, quite innocent. Oh, uncle, I’m so happy, so, so glad.” And she threw her arms round Captain Bradshaw’s neck.