“I passed him my promise to keep secret—”
“And of that I am to be judge,” admonished the parent. “Dost think thyself of an age to act for thyself? Come: out with it; every word he spake.”
“I’ll not break my faith,” rejoined Janice, proudly, her eyes meeting her father’s bravely, though the little hands trembled as she spoke, half in fright and half in excitement.
“Nay, Miss Janice, ye scruple foolishly,” advised Lord Clowes. “Remember the old adage, that ‘A bad promise, like a good cake, is better broken than kept.’”
“‘Children, obey thy parents in the Lord, for this is right,’” quoted Mrs. Meredith, sternly.
“God never meant for me to lie—and that ’s what you would have me do.”
The squire stepped into the hail, and returned with his riding-whip. “Thou ’rt a great girl to be whipped, Janice,” he announced; “but if thou ’rt not old enough to obey, thou ’rt not too old for a trouncing. Quickly, now, which wilt thou have?”
“You can kill me, but I’ll keep my word,” panted the maiden, while shaking with fear at her resistance, at the threatened punishment, and still more at the shame of its publicity.
Forgetful of everything in his anger, the squire strode toward his daughter to carry out his threat. Ere he had crossed the room, however, to where she stood, his way was barred by Philemon.
“Look a-here, squire,” the officer remonstrated, “I ain’t a-goin’ ter stand by and see Janice hit, no ways, so if there ’s any thrashin’ ter be done, you’ve got ter begin on me.”