“It is. What right have you to doubt it? Oh, how can you think such things? Can you suppose the man I am to marry is so despicable—so mean as to—as to—I’m ashamed to say it. Why do you presume that money has any part in our engagement? Such trouble as mine only makes it more binding. Do you suppose if he were poor as—as I am, that I would desert him? You know I wouldn’t. I should be glad—yes, almost happy, because then I could show him—could—”
Her voice failed her. She put her handkerchief to her eyes for an instant and then snatched it away and faced them, her head erect. The pride in her face was reflected in Captain Elisha’s as he regarded her.
“No, no,” he said gently, “I never supposed you’d act but in one way, Caroline. I knew you. And, as Steve’ll tell you, I said to him almost the same words you’ve been sayin’. If Malcolm’s what he’d ought to be, I said, he’ll be glad of the chance to prove how much he cares for your sister. But Steve appeared to have some misgivin’s, and so—”
He paused, turned toward the door, and seemed to be listening. Caroline flashed an indignant glance at her brother.
“And so?” she asked, scornfully.
“And so,” continued the captain, with a slight change in his tone, “it seemed to me that his doubts ought to be settled. And,” rising, as there came a tap at the door, “I cal’late they’re goin’ to be.”
He walked briskly over and opened the door. Sylvester was standing without.
“Come, have they?” inquired Captain Elisha.
“Yes.”
“Fetch ’em right in here. Steve, stand over nigher that corner. This way, Caroline, if you please.”