David's defiant hatred of Mr. Chambers was beginning to rise. He was willing that Mr. Chambers should feel pain; but Helen's suffering because of himself, this would not let him keep silent.
"But, Helen, you know you're——"
She stopped him with a touch on his shoulder. "This is my moment. I've been expecting it. It is I that must speak."
Mr. Chambers slowly reddened with anger. "Marry that thief? You shall not!" he cried.
Her face was twitching, tears were starting in her eyes. "Forgive me for saying it, father," she besought tremulously, "but—can you prevent me?"
"Your reason, your self-respect, should prevent you. Have you thought of the poverty?"
She put a hand through David's arm. "I have. I'm ready for it."
"And of the disgrace?"
"I'm ready for it."
He paled again. He saw the utter social ruin of his daughter, and it gave him infinite pain—and he saw the social injury to himself. She would sink from her present world, and her sinking would be the year's scandal; and that scandal he would have to live with, daily meet face to face.