"I don't believe you."
She took out her key and opened the door, and I followed her in with the suit-case. But before I could get it set down on the floor, she had swooped on a letter that was lying in the middle of the table, had torn it open, and then with a cry had come whirling toward me.
"Where is this church? Come, help me to get to it before five and I'll—oh, you shall have anything in the world you want!"
She flew out into the hall, I after her. And first thing you know we were down in the street, around the corner, and there in front of the church was a carriage with Moriway just helping Mrs. Kingdon out.
"Mother!"
At that cry the old lady's knees seemed to crumble under her. Her poor old painted face looked out ghastly and ashamed from her wedding finery. But Evelyn in her red coat flew to her and took her in her arms as though she was a child. And like a child, Mrs. Kingdon sobbed and made excuses and begged to be forgiven.
I looked at Moriway. It was all the pay I wanted—particularly as I had those little diamonds.
"You're just in time, Miss Kingdon," he said uneasily, "to make your mother happy by your presence at her wedding."
"I'm just in time, Mr. Moriway, to see that my mother's not made unhappy by your presence."
"Evelyn!" Mrs. Kingdon remonstrated.