He had known that Emil Correlli was fond of her, but he had not supposed he would care to make her his wife, although he had no doubt the girl would gladly avail herself of such an offer. Evidently the courtship had been secretly and successfully carried on; still, he could not understand why they should have adopted this exceedingly strange way to consummate their union, when there was nothing to stand in the way of a public marriage, if they desired it.
He was bitterly wounded and chagrined upon realizing how he had been ignored in the matter by all parties, and thus allowed to rush headlong into the piece of folly which he had committed, earlier in the evening, in connection with Edith.
Thus he had held himself aloof from the couple until every one else had left the parlors, when he mockingly saluted them as already described.
"No bride?" he repeated, skeptically.
"No, sir. I told you it was simply a farce. I was merely appealed to to take the place, in the play, of Miss Kerby, who was called home by telegram," Edith explained.
Mr. Goddard glanced from her to his brother-in-law in unfeigned perplexity.
"What are you saying?" he demanded. "Do you mean to tell me that you believe that last act was a farce?—that you do not know that you have been really and lawfully married to the man beside you?"
"Certainly I have not! What do you mean, sir, by such an unwarrantable assertion?" spiritedly retorted the young girl, but losing every atom of color, as a suspicion of the terrible truth flashed through her mind.
Gerald Goddard turned fiercely upon his brother-in-law at this, for he also now began to suspect treachery.
"What does she mean?" he cried, sternly. "Has she been led into this thing blindfolded?"