Daniel sprang from his chair. “Serena Dott!” he cried. “Do you mean to tell me that you're goin' out to that Chapter thing again TO-NIGHT! after bein' away from me all this time! Why, you've just got home!”
“I can't help it, Daniel. I must present my report. It's my duty to do it. The Chapter expects me and I must be there.”
“Expects you! I expected you, didn't I? And, by the everlastin', I think I had a right to expect you! I'm your husband, ain't I? Seems to me I am entitled to a little of your society.”
“I can't help it, Daniel. The Chapter—”
Captain Dan's feelings got the better of his prudence. “Damn the Chapter!” he shouted. “I wish you and I had never heard of it, nor anybody that belongs to it.”
The instant after the words left his lips he would have given a good deal to recall them, but it was too late. His wife slowly rose.
“Daniel Dott!” she gasped. “Daniel Dott! You—YOU—why—my husband talking to me like that! My own HUSBAND! the man of all men that I expected would be proud of me! The man who should be proud and glad that I have found my lifework—speaking to me like that! Oh! oh! what shall I do! How CAN I bear it!”
She fell back into the chair, her head sank upon her arms over the manuscript of the precious report, and she burst into a storm of sobs.
Daniel was as much overcome as she. He hurried to her side and in an agony of remorse bent over her.
“There, there, Serena,” he pleaded. “Don't do so. I didn't mean it. It kind of—”