“She speaks truly; the plot was hers, unknown to me; but, Daisie, she read my heart aright, if not yours; for never had bride such a cordial welcome to a husband’s heart, and never would a loyal husband strive more patiently to win a wife’s love, if you will give yourself to me in truth, as you are mine already by to-night’s vow.”
But she shrank from his extended arms, with a cry of woe that made Dallas Bain soothe her with warning words:
“Do not let him frighten you, Daisie; for who knows but that he was in the plot which he disclaims so glibly? If you do not want him as a husband, do not take him; for the law will free you from this fraud that has been perpetrated on you. Your friends will join with me in taking your part.”
“‘Whom God hath joined together, let not man put asunder,’” quoted the widow flippantly.
“Do not bring that sacred name into such a farce!” rebuked Dallas sternly.
At that moment Daisie sprang to the window and gazed with straining eyes into the thronged drawing-room.
The next moment she stepped over the low sill, and disappeared.
They followed her—the anxious three—and presently they saw her force her way through a pleasant group surrounding the clerical-looking young man who had performed the marriage ceremony.
She rushed up to him, and, clutching his sleeve with her little hand, cold and white as a snowflake, she cried shrilly, not caring if the whole world heard:
“Is it true that you are a real minister? That that marriage was real, and not a sham, as I thought?”