“Throw myself on the mercy of a man who dared—dared to break his engagement, and who ought to be punished and put on probation, and then refused! No, I cannot!”
“The minutes are slipping away.”
“Besides, I have nothing with me but the clothes I have on. And my uncle's family—think of my uncle's family!”
“You can write to your uncle and have him send your baggage. I dare not carry any messages. But I thought of what you would need to-night, and put some things and some money in this satchel. They were mine. Keep them all.”
Emeline took hold of the bag which Mary French shoved in her hand. Their faces were indistinct to each other.
“For the first time in my life I have deceived my husband!”
“Oh, what shall I do—what shall I do?” cried the girl.
A steamer whistle at St. James dock sent its bellow rebounding from tree to tree in the woods. Emeline seized Mary French and kissed her violently on both cheeks. She snatched the bag and flew towards St. James.
“Stop!” commanded the Prophet's wife.