At that, the man rushed away, and they were left alone.
Doctor Burns patted her cold hand, and asked her if the story could be true.
His fatherly heart ached for her when she sighed and answered:
“It is horrible. I would rather die than believe it—but there seems no room for doubt.”
The anguish of a broken heart was in her face and voice, and all his manhood rose in arms in her defense.
“Curse the villain! I’d like to horsewhip him for you, and I hope Cullen will find him and do it on his own account!” he exclaimed angrily, adding: “But, my dear, you’ve had a lucky escape from his toils, and I wouldn’t wear the willow if I were you. You’ve made a grand match, if it was brought about by a joke, and Royall loves you madly. Take my advice, and stick to him. He may get well and catch your heart in the rebound yet, so you may save your pride from this downfall.”
CHAPTER XXII.
“THE DIE WAS CAST.”
Poor Daisie Bell! Everything and everybody seemed to be against her, and the old doctor’s specious reasoning appealed to her pride, if not her heart.
What was any proud, sensitive girl likely to do, confronted with such conditions—to wear the willow, on the one hand, for a fickle, faithless lover, or to “take the goods the gods provided”?
Every one advised the latter, and Daisie’s pride was a powerful ally.