“I lied to your mother, dear.”
“For what?” Leonore had lifted her head, and there was a look of hope in her eyes, as well as of doubt.
“Because it was better at that time than the truth. But Watts will tell you that I lied.”
“Papa?”
“Yes, Dot. Dear old Peter speaks the truth.”
“But if you lied to her, why not to me?”
“I can’t lie to you, Leonore. I am telling you the truth. Won’t you believe me?”
“I do,” cried Leonore. “I know you speak the truth. It’s in your face and voice.” And the next moment her arms were about Peter’s neck, and her lips were on his.
Just then some one in the “torchlight” shouted:
“What’s the matter wid Stirling?”