“All of us. Your grandfather, too. He expects to find you here to-night. I can explain to your Aunt Elinor over the telephone, and we can send for your clothes.”
Suddenly Lily got up and walked the length of the room. When she came back her eyes were filled with tears, and her left hand was bare.
“It nearly kills me to hurt you,” she said, “but—what about this?”
She held out her hand.
Grace seemed frozen in her chair. At the sight of her mother's face Lily flung herself on her knees beside the chair.
“Mother, mother,” she said, “you must know how I love you. Love you both. Don't look like that. I can't bear it.”
Grace turned away her face.
“You don't love us. You can't. Not if you are going to marry that man.”
“Mother,” Lily begged, desperately, “let me come home. Let me bring him here. I'll wait, if you'll only do that. He is different; I know all that you want to say about his past. He has never had a real chance in all his life. He won't belong at first, but—he's a man, mother, a strong man. And it's awfully important. He can do so much, if he only will. And he says he will, if I marry him.”
“I don't understand you,” Grace said coldly. “What can a man like that do, but wreck all our lives?”