He could get no further, for Mr. Fern, with a majestic motion of his hand, waved him back. The presence of the intended bridegroom was evidently not agreeable to the old gentleman.
"Sit down," said Mr. Fern, in a quavering voice, addressing himself wholly to Weil. "I telephoned to you that my daughter had returned, for I knew you would be anxious." He bore with special stress on the word "you." "I—I did not know that you intended to bring—any other person."
The allusion to Roseleaf was so direct, that he could not help attempting some kind of a reply.
"Who could be more anxious than I?" he asked, in a tone that was very sweet and tender; in vivid contrast, the old man thought, to his manner of the preceding evening. "No one has a greater interest to learn where she has been these long, desolate hours."
Mr. Fern abandoned his intention not to recognize the fact that Roseleaf was present, and turned upon him with a fierce glare in his sunken eyes.
"What right have you to ask questions?" he demanded, pressing the trembling form of his daughter to his own. "You were the first to doubt her—even her innocence—this lamb that would have given her life for you only yesterday! She has returned to me, and henceforth she is mine! You could not have her though you came on your knees! You wish to know where she has been! Well, you never will! She will not tell you! It is her own affair. I am speaking for her when I say that we desire no more of your visits to this house; we are through with you, thank God!"
It would be hard to tell which of the two men who listened to this was the more surprised. Mr. Weil felt his heart sink as well as did Roseleaf. Daisy clung to her father, without raising her eyes, and there was nothing to indicate that she disputed his assertions.
All was over between her and Roseleaf! Nothing could bring them together again! And she did not mean to divulge the cause of her remaining away a day and a night—that day and night that had been expected to precede and succeed her marriage.
Shirley rose slowly. He bent his eyes earnestly on the father and daughter, and his voice was firm.
"When one is dismissed, there is nothing for him but to go. I regret sincerely what I said last night, when the horror of this thing came suddenly upon me. I love you, Daisy, and I know by what you have told me so often that you love me. Are the foolish utterances of a distracted man to separate us forever? Conceive the agony I was in when at the very moment I was to start for my wedding I heard that my bride could not be found! If I had not adored you passionately would I have been on the verge of madness, saying and doing things without reason and excuse? I am ordered to leave you, my sweetheart, and if you do not bid me stay I can only obey the mandate. But I love you more at this moment than ever. All I ask to know is why you made this flight. If your answer is satisfactory there will be nothing on my part to prevent our marriage."