Mrs. Oliphant.
“Hired a house!” exclaimed Mrs. Oliphant; and her sigh was genuine, and not intended for effect.
“And furnished it too!” added Lilian, with horror, as she piled up the details of my hideous wickedness.
“And furnished it too!” groaned poor Mrs. Oliphant, sinking into a chair, as though she had reached the depth of despair in the gulf into which my infamous conduct had plunged her.
“He did not say a word to me about the house or furniture until this very afternoon!” continued my beautiful wife, holding up both her pretty white hands the better to emphasize her astonishment and chagrin.
“Of course, if you desire to leave your own pleasant home, Lilian, it is not for me to say a word,” added the meek mamma, with another sigh, which seemed to measure the depth of the resignation that could submit to such an outrage.
“But I do not desire to leave my pleasant home,” protested Lilian. “I never had such a thought. I am sure, I have been so happy here that I never dreamed of another home, as long as you were willing to keep us, mother.”
“You have been very kind indeed to us, Mrs. Oliphant,” I ventured to remark, though I was not certain that the time had come for me to defend myself. “I feel very grateful to you for the sacrifice you have made to accommodate us; and I am sure I shall never forget it.”