But his own heart was heavy, too. He adored his lovely little sweetheart, and vague fears assailed him lest some one should win her away from him during his enforced absence. She was so young, so untaught, what if she learned to doubt him? What if the enemies that encompassed both should turn her heart against him?
A sudden mad resolve came over him. With quickened breath, he whispered:
“Pansy, in a week I must go and leave you. What if I married you before I went, and left my own sweet wife waiting for my return?”
She started and gazed wildly at him.
“They—they—would not permit it,” she returned breathlessly.
He smiled triumphantly.
“We could run away, my pet,” he said. “For instance, suppose when you started to work to-morrow morning I should meet you? We could take the early morning train for Washington, be married, and return by the time the factory closes for the day. You could go quietly home again, and no one need know our sweet secret until I came back to claim you.”
CHAPTER VII.
ACQUIRING A STEPFATHER.
Mrs. Laurens would have been only too glad to listen to her daughter, if she had had any idea that Norman Wylde’s intentions toward Pansy were strictly honorable. But her brother’s representations had so thoroughly alarmed her that she deemed it proper to repress the girl with the utmost sternness, while at the same time her motherly heart yearned tenderly over her and she longed for the means of lightening the girl’s hard lot in life. And it was for her children’s sake more than aught else that the yet young widow began to contemplate the idea of a second marriage.
She was still a pretty and attractive woman, and for a year past she had had an admirer who had pressed his suit more than once, and would have been accepted only for the fact that her five children were, with one accord, vehemently opposed to having a stepfather.