“No—no!” Rhoda cried.
“If that man comes—”
“He will not come!”
“He cast me off at the church door, and said he had been cheated. Money! Oh, Edward!”
Dahlia drooped her head.
“He will keep away. You are safe,” said Rhoda.
“Because, if no help comes, I am lost—I am lost for ever!”
“But help will come. I mean peace will come. We will read; we will work in the garden. You have lifted poor father up, my dear.”
“Ah! that old man!” Dahlia sighed.
“He is our father.”