"Mother, tell me, do you believe me—dishonoured?"
The contact of the dear, strong young body gave Theodora power to say:
"Oh! my dear, my dear, I cannot, I will not believe evil of you. But you must do what your father thinks best; it is the only way. You have been so heedless, my child, my poor child."
"You—side with her?" thundered Nathaniel, feeling himself defied. "Then heed me! If she refuses, out you go with her! No longer will I live with my family divided against me. The world with her, or the home with me!"
Then suddenly and quite clearly Priscilla saw the only way open to her, the only way that led to even the poor peace she yearned to leave to the sad, little, clinging, broken creature looking piteously up at her.
"My child, my child, your father knows best."
"There! there mother. Now listen!"
Still holding Theodora, she looked over the gray head at her father's cruel face.
"I have only to tell you," she said slowly and with deadly hardness, "you will not have to force Jerry-Jo McAlpin to marry me; he's eager enough to do it. He leaves to-night for the States; he has arranged for me to go with him." She paused, then went on, speaking now to her mother:
"As God hears me, I am not dishonoured, little mother. I will never bring dishonour upon you. I could have explained to you—you would have understood, but father—never! I am going to the States. Good-bye."