"Fathers are almost always right," I replied, as the carriage stopped before the house.
I found that Marian was trembling violently when I helped her out. We were admitted to the library. Mrs. Collingsby was up, but her husband had not risen yet. The fond mother folded her lost daughter in her arms, and they wept together.
"Let me call your father," said she, leaving the room hastily.
"You will have a glad welcome from both of your parents, Marian," I added.
"My mother will not reproach me," said she, as Mrs. Collingsby returned.
"Where have you been?" inquired the anxious mother, as she took the hand of her weeping daughter.
"I was deceived, mother."
"But where is Mr. Waterford?"
"I don't know; I have not seen him since day before yesterday."
Mr. Collingsby appeared in a few moments in his dressing-gown, and had evidently made a very hasty toilet.