“I do not think she was altogether wicked, Mrs. Laurens. Her Aunt Lucy told me that she had a passionate love for our child, which she visited secretly several times every year, and that much of the income Mrs. Barry allowed her for pin-money was expended for the child, that it might be reared in luxury.”
They told him of all her falsehood and treachery by which poor Molly’s life had been wrecked and ruined, and the strong man shed tears of bitter sorrow and regret.
“I will search the world over that I may find your wife and bring her back to you, if you will say that you forgive her the one deceitful act of wedding you under a false identity!” he exclaimed.
“I would have forgiven her that at first. It was the thought of what she had been to you, and of her treachery to all that rankled most bitterly in my heart,” answered Cecil, agitatedly.
“Mrs. Barry is here. Shall we not tell her of her niece’s treachery?” exclaimed Mrs. Laurens, indignant at the fraud that had been practiced on them all, and remorseful and ashamed at the part she had taken in persecuting Cecil’s wife.
“Can we not spare poor, ambitious Louise?” exclaimed John Keith, almost pleadingly.
The velvet curtains parted, and Mrs. Barry, sterner and grimmer and uglier than ever, stepped inside the room.
“No, you can not spare your wicked wife, John Keith! Mrs. Barry has heard all!” she exclaimed, angrily.
At that moment the parlor door opened quickly, and Louise Barry, Dot, Doctor Laurens and his wife, Nina and her husband, Mr. Wentworth, came trooping gayly into the room from some out-door expedition that had flushed their faces, tossed their hair, and made them all very bright and happy.
Mrs. Barry raised her long, bony forefinger and pointed angrily at Louise.