“Richard Forrester didn’t know what he wished himself, or he would never have been guilty of such folly.”
“Papa, you know that his mind was as clear as either yours or mine is at this moment,” Editha exclaimed, nearly ready to weep at this cruel opposition.
“It does not matter; I shall never consent to your fooling away ten thousand dollars in any such manner; so let this end the controversy at once,” he returned, doggedly.
“Poor Earle!” sighed Editha, regretfully; “then he’ll have to wait a whole year for it. It is too bad.”
“Wait a year for it—what do you mean?” demanded Mr. Dalton sharply.
“I mean, papa, that if I cannot give it to him without your consent, that he will have to wait for it until I am twenty-one. But the very day that I attain my majority I shall go to Mr. Felton and have him make over ten thousand dollars to Earle Wayne,” and the gentle blue eyes met his with a look that told him she would do just as she had said.
“Do you defy me, then? You will not dare!” he cried, actually quivering with anger at her words.
“I have promised, and—I shall keep my pledge.”
Editha had grown very pale, but she spoke very firmly and steadily.
Sumner Dalton shot a dark look at the defiant little figure standing so quietly opposite him, and muttered an oath under his breath.