“Apology!” broke in Stephen, with a scornful laugh. “Apology! Well, by gad! Just hear that, Caro!”
The girl’s lip curled. “I do not wish to hear your apology,” she said.
“But I wish you to hear it. Not for my attitude in the Trolley matter, nor for what I published in the Planet. Nor for my part in the disagreement with your father. I wrote the truth and nothing more. I considered it right then—I told your father so—and I have not changed my mind. I should act exactly the same under similar circumstances.”
“You blackguard!” shouted Stephen. Pearson ignored him utterly.
“I do owe you an apology,” he continued, “for coming here, as I have done, knowing that you were ignorant of the affair. I believe now that you are misinformed as to the facts, but that is immaterial. You should have been told of my trouble with Mr. Warren. I should have insisted upon it. That I did not do so is my fault and I apologize; but for that only. Good evening.”
He shook himself free from the captain’s grasp, bowed to the trio, and left the room. An instant later the outer door closed behind him.
Caroline turned to her brother. “Come, Steve,” she said.
“Stay right where you are!” Captain Elisha did not request now, he commanded. “Stevie, stand still. Caroline, I want to talk to you.”
The girl hesitated. She had never been spoken to in that tone before. Her pride had been already deeply wounded by what she had learned that afternoon; she was fiercely resentful, angry, and rebellious. She was sure she never hated anyone as she did this man who ordered her to stay and listen to him. But—she stayed.
“Caroline,” said Captain Elisha, after a moment of silence, “I presume likely—of course I don’t know for sartin, but I presume likely it’s Mrs. Dunn and that son of hers who’ve told you what you think you know.”