"Another woman's husband!" echoed Reba in astonishment and dismay—"I did not know it was so bad as that!"
"Dreadful! impossible!" cried Mrs. Dinsmore, dropping her knife and fork and bursting into tears. "Don't tell me a niece of mine could do such a thing as that! Mr. Dinsmore, it's a cruel joke."
"No joke at all," he said, "but the simple, unvarnished truth; though of course she refused to believe that the man was married."
"And who is the wretch?" cried his wife, grinding her teeth. "If you'd been half a man, you'd have shot him down!"
"I'm no murderer, madam," was the biting retort, "and in my opinion a cowhiding would much better befit so cowardly a scoundrel. I should have administered that with hearty good will, could I have laid hands on him."
"I wish you had!" she exclaimed with passionate vehemence. "I am glad you wrote for Mr. Marsden, and I hope he will come at once and take that shameful girl away before she does anything more to bring disgrace on the family. Reba, why did you let her do so?"
"I, Aunt Belle? I'm not in her confidence, and was as ignorant and innocent as yourself in regard to the whole thing."
"Who did hinder her? am I not to hear the whole story?" demanded Mrs. Dinsmore, turning to her spouse again.