“Yes, doomed to live with you,” the girl replied. “To get along without help, or love. To see her mother occasionally—a strange woman in the house. What right have you and your crowd to have children?” she demanded, hotly.
“Such impudence!” burst out Mrs. Bryce.
“I’ve never known any one like you before, and you fill me with horror!” Ann retorted.
“This may amuse you, Wally, but it doesn’t me,” remarked Mrs. Bryce, walking out of the room.
“I’m sorry, Mr. Bryce; I didn’t mean to say all that. I am so tired and excited from hunting Isabelle, and it seemed so terrible to me that she didn’t care about her own baby being lost, that I just burst out.”
“I know how overstrained you are, but of course, under the circumstances you will see——” he answered miserably.
“Oh, I couldn’t stay in the house another minute.”
“Mrs. Bryce is very self-contained, she’s not excitable as you and I are,” he tried to explain.
“I hate to leave Isabelle. Oh, Mr. Bryce, try to look after her a little, try to love her a little, she does need it so!”
The next day as she stepped to the platform of the train the chauffeur handed her a letter from Wally. There was an enclosure of two hundred dollars, which he begged she would accept as a present from Isabelle. He thanked her and regretted the necessity of her going.