“Have you no pity for me?” whispered Marion, reproachfully. “How can you expose me to this?”
He passed an arm round her waist and led her to a chair.
“Isabel,” he said gently, and she started and raised her eyes, to gaze at him fully, “you must know I could; not dream that you would be here. You will forgive me, too, for what I am compelled to say.”
She bowed her head gently and once more veiled her eyes, while Chester stood by the chair holding Marion’s hand.
“Aunt Grace, I insist upon your being silent. You have no voice in this matter. Laura, I tell you again that this lady is in grievous peril and needs all a sister’s help. I ask that help of you; will you give it?”
Laura was silent for a few moments; then she turned and gazed at Isabel, ending by throwing her arms about her, and then facing her brother once more.
“Well?” he said bitterly.
“It is impossible, Fred. If you have forgotten all that was due to Isabel, I cannot. No; and if aunt leaves this house I go with her.”
“I insist then,” cried Chester, angrily.
“No,” said Marion, rising. “I must go. It is not right.”